


Prophets Of Aeon

by LadyCyanWolf



Category: Prophets of Aeon
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-20 10:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14258730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCyanWolf/pseuds/LadyCyanWolf
Summary: Isabelle is a young therian, a half animal half human hybrid, who's dream is to work on the Paniskism, the network of cogs and gears in the center of the world. When the Paniskism begins to deteriorate at a much more accelerated rate, someone has to go find out why. Can Isabelle and her friends find the courage and strength to figure out who's behind it all before the world dies?





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note:
> 
> There are some grammatical and punctuation error scattered in but I think I got most of them. If you notice any I missed, please let me know.

Chapter 1.

Kora Rooksbee sat in the middle of a small room located underneath a military garrison. Her dark blue hair hung around her shoulders, falling into her eyes. Her dark blue wolf ears swiveled atop her head, searching for any sound that her adopted father was coming as her tail flicked from side to side. She had gathered several of her father's medals into a small pile in front of her and her childhood friend, Isabelle Demison.

The two had been playing together for as long as anyone could remember and Kora shared many memories with the young mouse therianthrope. Isabelle began stacking the small golden medals, smiling at each piece as if it were a great treasure. They stood about 8 inches off of the floor, threatening to fall over and scatter at the slightest nudge. Her white mouse ears twitched slightly as the slight metal thud from each piece came from placing them atop each other. Kora’s dark blue eyes surveyed the room to search for anything else that could further their amusement. She saw nothing but a small brown desk with a matching plain chair, a worn wool rug, and a small cot. The tiny room had no windows or further decoration. Kora sighed and returned to Isabelle.

"Couldn't find anything else?" Isabelle questioned as she continued to stack the medals. Her strawberry blonde curls fell past her chin casting a shadow across her light blue eyes. Kora shook her head and sat down. "Your dad isn't going to be happy you took his medals again."

"I know, I know," Kora replied, annoyed before muttering under her breath, “He’s not even my dad.”  
Kora’s adopted father, Hildebrand Sheay, had been grooming her to take his place as Enforcer of the Rabbit Kingdom, Nethedomaan. He had made sure she could defend herself and knew about politics as soon as she could retain the information. As the Enforcer, he was responsible for the care and maintenance on the section of the Paniskism that lay under Nethedomaan, protecting the Prophets - the half animal half human workers, and enforcing the laws of the land upon the surface. Kora hated knowing she'd be expected to follow in his footsteps. The position was supposed to be a high honor since there were only four in the entire world but to Kora it seemed more like a prison. She sighed softly before leaning back on the scratchy rug and closing her eyes.

"You're thinking of being Enforcer, aren't you?" Isabelle inquired with a quizzical look on her soft, angular face. "I know you don't want to but being Enforcer is one of the most important jobs in the world and they say your dad is the one of the best there ever was. He loves you and the colony of prophets. You do remember how important it is for the prophets to be taken care of, right?"

Kora didn’t answer. She was tired of being lectured by adults who told her it was the most important job she could hope to have. Anger bubbled in her chest as she thought more on how much it resembled a cage. She wouldn’t ever be able to leave this place. She loved to read books that told of great adventures and the different nations and villages. She wanted to go and see the world, not be forced to stay in one spot because of a job she didn’t want. She rolled her eyes at Isabelle who huffed in irritation.

"Since you never pay attention to lessons I will recite the teachings for you. In the beginning of time, there were four gods. They became so disgusted with the dark void before them and so the world was born. Each god gave us one gift for all to share. The first goddess, Poseidra, granted us the gift of nature. She created a big rock but still was not satisfied, so she added the trees and the animals and us. The second god, Ushin, granted us the gift of art. He gave us the Paniskism, the great machine in the core of the world. The Paniskism is tied to the world by the nature of the first goddess. It is what maintains the climate and atmosphere around the world. If the Paniskism stops, the world will die.

"The Paniskism is an entire network of cogs that span the whole interior of the planet. Only a few are born with the gift and knowledge to maintain them, that’s what the Prophets are. That's why we are so important, Kora. Hildebrand says there are fewer and fewer prophets being born. Without the therianthrope prophets, there wouldn’t be a way to take care of the cogs of the Paniskism. It is too dangerous for any humans who aren’t specially trained to be down there. In addition to being a prophet, you're a candidate to your fathers Enforcer seat. It's importa-"

"Izzy can fill that position.” Kora, agitated by Isabelle’s lecturing, stood up and walked to the cot. She lay down, turning her back to Isabelle. “I don’t want to do it.”

"Don't interrupt, Kora. It's important that someone of Hildebrand's bloodline fill the position.” Isabelle glared at Kora as she opened her mouth to protest, “I know you aren’t actually related but since you're a prophet it doesn’t matter. The Descendants of Aeon are supposed to be reborn in our lifetime. The Descendants are the chosen ones among the races, destined to advance and save our society," Isabelle paused to gauge Kora's reaction. She snorted a bit when she noticed how obviously bored Kora was. "In any case, the third god, Eros, granted us the gift of emotion so that we may be moved by the art nature inspires. He made it so that we may love each other and keep the world in harmony. The fourth and leader of the gods, Theia, gave us li-..."

"I don’t care about this. There’s no proof that the gods even really exist. Why do you even listen to this?" Kora rolled to face Isabelle before bitterly adding, “ I don’t want to hear what they cram down our throats in lessons. I can’t believe you memorized all of this garbage.”

"Quit interrupting! Yes, I memorized the lessons because they are real and we are supposed to know them! You know we are more intelligent than the human nugal. We endure more rigorous training and schooling to prepare us for the hardships we will face. Honestly though, you'd be amazed what a twelve- year- old can do if she sets her mind to it. Now be silent!" Isabelle ordered, clearly growing impatient with the eleven- year- old in front of her. "The fourth god gave us light so that we may see our creation and take care of the world."

Isabelle finished her explanation of the Prophets of Aeon beliefs and glared at Kora. “Maybe you should care. Look around you. How do you think all this came to exist? It surely wasn’t just there.”

“I don’t care how it came to be. I just want to leave. I am tired of everyone trying to make me do what they want. Kora do this. Kora do that. No, don’t do that Kora, it isn’t fitting of your status.”

Kora sat up angrily and shook her head. “None of it matters anyways. What proof is there that gods exist?”

“Why do you need proof? Why can’t you just believe?”

“I have no reason to. It doesn’t make any sense. How do we know the world will really die if the Paniskism stops? What if we are just working to work and we don’t have to? Have you ever thought of that?” Kora retorted sharply, “don’t you want to see the world? Go outside and be under the sky?”

“Well, yes but we have to look after the cogs. If we don’t, the world will die.” Isabelle’s face contorted in confusion at Kora’s sudden vehemence for the beliefs.

“But how do you know we have to work the cogs?” Kora’s voice rose with emphasis as she questioned the other girl. She rose from the cot, fingering the small Celtic pendant she had about her neck before she started pacing back and forth in the small room, her small brown dress loosely flowing behind her. “I don’t want to just blindly follow something that can’t be proven as real.”

“Kora, I understand if you're scared about being an Enforcer but you don’t have to spout such nonsense about our religion. If someone hears you, you will get in trouble!” Isabelle whispered in soothing tones. “Can’t you just believe in me until I can find you proof?”

“I don’t know, Isabelle. You heard the elders at the meeting this morning. The Rabbit Prince started a war. They say that we have to leave our home and move to a different city because of the fighting. Why would a god allow its creations to kill each other?” Kora worried her lip for a moment before looking into Isabelle’s light blue eyes. “I don’t know if I can wait long enough for you to get proof.”  
Sounds of distant fighting drifted through the heavy oak door that separated them from the outside world. Kora and Isabelle both turned to look at it. Isabelle unknowingly backed away from it.

“Do you think the fighting has already reached us?” Isabelle’s voiced edged around hysteria.

“No. My dad wouldn’t let us be in danger. It is probably just some people practicing.”

Isabelle visibly relaxed a bit. “You're right. He wouldn’t let anything happen to us.” She turned to eye Kora. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you’ve said. We are going to talk about this more.”

Kora groaned and turned away from her. Isabelle wasn’t going to let this go. ‘I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.’ She inwardly chastised herself. Enforcer candidates are required to take more advanced courses so even though Isabelle was a year older, Kora knew more about politics and what the greedy do in the name of the Aeons. Kora sighed and turned to face Isabelle once more. “Just forget I ever said anything. Okay? It will be easier that way.”

As Isabelle was mentally preparing her response, the large oak door was flung open and Hildebrand stepped through the door way. The sounds of battle were closer and more distinct behind Hildebrand’s muscular 6’2 form. He filled the doorway before resting his chocolate brown eyes on the two girls. His short cropped black hair was damp with sweat that beaded on his brow and neck. Black smoke drifted in above him, creeping across the ceiling like creeper vines. He coughed. In a hoarse voice that suggested smoke inhalation, he choked out, “Girls, pack your things. The Rabbit brought his forces immediately after the garrison. I tried to work things out politically but some of the soldiers here weren’t well disciplined and started an all-out battle. We have to leave immediately. I am going to give some commands to the soldiers guarding the door to the garrison. I will be back shortly. Be ready to move.”

He stepped out of the room, leaving the door open. His form disappeared through the smoke that now billowed in, blanketing the ceiling in a roiling mass of black clouds.

Kora glanced at the door and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She turned to look at Isabelle who stared wide eyed into the smoke. Working things over in her mind, Kora saw this for what it was: an opportunity. She slowly walked to Isabelle who, seeing her movement, turned to look at her.

“I can’t just follow this belief system blindly. I need proof. Until I have it, I will spend every breath I take trying to disprove your false gods.” Kora whispered into Isabelle’s ear. She kissed her on the cheek before darting into the smoke. “Take care of yourself.”

Isabelle stared in horror at the smoke Kora had disappeared into. Tears fell down her cheeks as she dropped to the ground with a soft thud. Through tear filled eyes, she glimpsed Hildebrand screaming at the guards before turning to her. Pain filled the lines of his face when he noticed Kora was not with her. Isabelle coughed, her body convulsing from the action. The edges of her vision began to blur and fade before she fell forward and slipped into the cold, silence of unconsciousness.


	2. Tests and Traits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabelle goes for her testing to see if she qualifies to work on the Paniskism and to learn what traits she has developed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note:
> 
> Sorry it isn't all evenly spaced to separate the paragraphs. It's very tedious to do when I copy paste from where I'd had it previously. This will likely be the common formatting going forward.

Prophets of Aeon Written by Brittany Lehman 

Chapter 2

6 years later

"Are you excited?" Ella Demison asked as she pulled back the curtains to let the light into her daughter's room. Her dark blonde curls fell over her shoulders as she pushed the large rectangular window open allow the cool spring breeze to waft in. "Today's your first day on the cogs, Isabelle, so get your lazy bum out of bed!"

Isabelle stirred beneath her pink comforter and rubbed her eyes. Her shoulder length strawberry blonde curls stuck out in odd directions and her bright pink night gown bunched over her left shoulder, exposing her collarbone. Groaning, she threw her pillow at her mother and exclaimed, "I know, mom. Geez, you didn't have to wake me up four hours early though. I could have slept some more."

Ella smiled, her 5’7 frame oozing the fondness she felt for her daughter. Chuckling at the young mouse therianthrope, she picked the abused pillow up and placed it back on the bed. Smoothing the wrinkles from the lime green pillow case, she said, “ I know but I thought you might want to get up and eat some breakfast. I made your favorite.”

The prophets spent many years learning at an accelerated rate due to a genetic anomaly that causes therians to mentally mature more quickly than a human but to also have both human and animal genes. At the age of 18, the Prophets of Aeon's youth completed their training phases and took the tests that would decide where at in the underground network they would work. At this age, the prophets were expected to be capable of defending themselves and handling the arduous work that accompanies working the Paniskism.

Isabelle swung her legs out of bed and stuck her arms up in the air, stretching. She let out a high pitched squeak before throwing back the covers and standing to get dressed.

“Thank you for breakfast. You're right. I do want to eat before I go.” Isabelle smiled and kissed her mom’s cheek. “You're the best mom ever! Now get out so I can get dressed.”

Laughing, Ella acquiesced. “Okay, okay, I'm going, I'm going. Be sure to come down while it’s still hot!” She closed the door behind her.

After her mom had left the room, Isabelle sat at her dresser. She closely inspected herself in the large half-moon mirror that perched on her dresser. Her shoulder length blonde curls stuck out and her light blue eyes had slight dark circles under them. She had had a nightmare the night before. She couldn’t remember what it was about and she chewed her lip thoughtfully for a few moments before pushing the thoughts aside. She grabbed her brush and began working out the snags in her hair.

Once completed, she opened her drawers and took out a white button up blouse with lace on collar and sleeves and a thigh length bright pink plaited skirt with flowers embroidered along the hem. She laid them on top of the dresser and pulled her nightgown over her head. It caught on one of her large white mouse ears and she squeaked slightly as she struggled to get the gown off. Frowning at the mess it had left her hair; she pulled on the white blouse and buttoned the shirt from top to bottom before wiggling her hips into the skirt. She grabbed her brush once more to smooth her hair and once more looked in the mirror. She tapped her lip with her finger thoughtfully; feeling like her outfit lacked something. Inspiration touched her mind and she grabbed some small pink bow hair clips and fussed them into position before her ears. 

Triumphantly, she inspected her appearance in the mirror. She didn’t know how much longer she would be able to sport the cute pink bows before she would have to stop wearing them.

She turned around to observe her room. Her pink comforter hung part way off of her bed touching her shag lime green carpet. Her lime green walls had several drawn pictures of landscapes ranging from the snowy, cloud covered peaks of a mountain to the barren, dry cracked lands of the wastes. A small desk with many loose papers sat in the corner. Several half- drawn pictures lay scattered in crumpled balls, their lines and scenes forgotten. Her bag lay on the corner of her bed, its contents of various sketchpads and books threatening to spill onto the floor.

Isabelle lunged for her bag, catching it just in time to avoid the mess and slung it over her shoulder after safely zipping its contents inside. She looked around her room one last time before turning and walking out of her room. In the hallway, she walked down the narrow stretch , carefully avoiding the boards that groaned under pressure. It had a small brown woven rug runner down the center and several family portraits hung on the cream color walls. She stopped in front of her favorite. It showed a younger Isabelle with her mother and her father. Her mother never spoke much about her father but she thought he looked a lot like Hildebrand.

Pulling herself from her thoughts and the portrait, she bounded down the stairs and into the small kitchen. A small porcelain sink with a square window above it sat in between a small refrigerator and a small two burner stove. The cream tiled floors matched the color of the paneled wall but contrasted the black curtains that hung around the window. A large counter that took up most of the space stood in the center of the room. The black marble countertops had an assortment of toast with different kinds of jellies spread across them. Isabelle smiled at pancakes with strawberry jelly and the glass of milk that awaited her.

“Mom, you didn’t need to do all this.” Isabelle said through a mouth full of toast. Crumbs caked around the corners of her mouth as she ate. “I am glad you did though. It’s delicious, thank you!”

Isabelle finished her pancakes and toast and went to kiss her mom on the cheek. She left bits of toast crumbs and a glob of strawberry jelly on her mother’s face. She smiled wickedly.

“Bells!” Ella groaned as she rummaged through the drawers of the counter to retrieve a hand towel. Finally locating one, she wet it with warm water in the sink and wiped her face. She glared at Isabelle momentarily before throwing the hand towel at Isabelle's face and chuckling to herself. “You know, you’re such an ornery child.”

“I know but you love me anyways!” Isabelle laughed and put the hand towel on the counter top next to the now empty dishes. She picked up her lime green pack and adjusted the straps so that it fit more comfortably.

“Today’s the big day!” Ella stated, gathering the dishes and placing them into the sink.

“I know! I’m super excited.”

“Are you going to go with Chastity?” Ella began running dish water that slowly overtook the dishes in the sink. She added some pink square tablets that caused the water to bubble and fizz.

Isabelle thought about this for a moment. Chastity Servat had been friends with her since a little after Kora disappeared. She always made people mad at her because of her superior attitude.

“I think I better. She may get into another fight on the way and be late.” Isabelle frowned. It seemed to Isabelle that she always had to keep Chastity out of trouble. The girl’s haughty attitude rubbed most of everyone the wrong way. Wherever she went, there was sure to be some sort of argument.

“Okay well be careful and good luck!”

“You know I will be. I love you!” Isabelle left the kitchen and walked through the entry hall and out the large red door. She stepped down the small stair case, a short six steps and onto the patch of grass and dirt that made her yard. She turned to look at her house. It was Victorian style with large arch ways over the door and the living room window. Several smaller arch ways surrounded the large arches and a spider web design decorated the tops. 

Isabelle sighed and began to walk down the street towards Chastity’s house. She wouldn’t say that Chastity was her best friend but the therian girl had been there when no one else was. Conveniently, they had met because their birthdays were the same date and had rented the same building out. Ever since then, they had been celebrating their birthdays together.

The sun broke over the horizon and Isabelle squinted at the growing orange orb and smiled. She didn’t often get to see the sun in the sky. She sometimes got to watch it rise and set but never when it was in the noon day sky. The training for new prophets was intense and meant that she worked underground all day. The only time she ever saw the sun was the journey to and from training.

Isabelle neared the squat pale yellow house that housed her friend’s family. She stepped up onto the grass and paused. A light breeze had begun to flow and she closed her eyes, feeling the wind’s gentle caress. She opened her eyes once more and stepped up to knock on the yellowed white door.

Chastity opened the door and squealed before leaping at Isabelle. Her short red hair hung in a tight bob around her red brown feline ears and her brown eyes looked Isabelle up and down before saying, “It’s about time you showed up. I was worried I’d have to carry my own things.”

Isabelle resisted the urge to roll her eyes and took the items Chastity handed her with placid acceptance. She had always looked upon Isabelle as a personal servant and more often than not treated her as such. It only really bothered Isabelle when the girl took it too far and tried to make Isabelle dress her.  
Not many people were able to tolerance Chastity’s haughty superior attitude but Isabelle got along with everyone and felt it was important to have a friend. She didn’t mind carrying the extra stuff since it helped build strength and make someone else happy at the same time.  
“Come, Isabelle! We have places to go before we go take the tests. There’s a new shop that just opened and you simply must buy me some sweets!” Chastity exclaimed. She pushed Isabelle off the door step and shut the door behind herself. She brushed a bit of dirt off her dress and set off towards town, confident that Isabelle would follow with her stuff.  
Isabelle didn’t understand why the girl had to act the way she did. Maybe it was the way she was raised. She sighed and followed. The pathway took them through the residential area and into the town. The square buildings were a mix of browns and reds built with bricks that had since seen the weather. Most of the tile roofs were missing tiles here and there but none so many as to compromise its inhabitants.  
An old building with large rectangular windows lining the wall had recently been renovated and converted from an old tile warehouse into a new store.  
As they arrived at the new store, Chastity inspected her reflection in the window and fluffed her hair before applying some ruby red lip gloss. Satisfied with her appearance, she stepped into the shop with Isabelle trailing behind.  
The shop owner’s son, Sanford Hawksley, was an attractive youth of 19 with sharp brown eyes, a square jaw, and dark brown hair. He brought in a fair amount of business. His rough toned features attracted both young and old women, all of which purchased something from the store just to have his gaze alight on them.  
He casually leaned his 6'2 frame against the register, his head in his left hand and his eyes moved over the crowd without lingering on any particular person. The register stood on a raised, square platform with an entrance near the register marked by a portion of counter that fold up to allow passage. Another entrance was at the opposite side of the counter, allowing for two places to get into the registers square.  
Chastity, being no exception, grabbed a candy bar and pushed her way into the crowd of women at the register. She stood behind a stocky brunette with black rimmed glasses and a tall and gangly red head. After a few moments, she impatiently muttered “move” before shoving them out of her way to speak with Sanford. Placing the candy bar on the counter, she smacked her lips before leaning in to whisper something to Sanford.  
Isabelle rolled her eyes before looking away from the cluster. She honestly had no idea how Chastity expected to make friends when the girl kept being so rude to everyone. Isabelle sighed and turned away and began browsing along the isles. There were collections of food from all over the kingdoms including sweet cakes from Veryni, salted dried beef from Desmi’aan, and many more varieties. The assorted snacks and foods were aligned on 12 evenly spaced shelves with large wooden number signs hanging above the isles.  
“Hey, Bells!”  
Isabelle looked up from examining a small licorice candy to see Sanford grinning over the register. Inwardly, she groaned, hoping that it was someone else who had called her name. He frayed her nerves even on the best day and the thought made her tail whip about in expectation. After knocking a few things off the shelf with it, she finally gained control of herself.  
“Bells! Wait up!” Sanford called. He placed a small white rectangular sign with “Back in five minutes” on the counter and locked the register. He eyed the mass of fawning women and girls before taking the back exit out from the register’s raised platform. He avoided the crowd by walking along the other side of the aisle.  
Isabelle looked at him with an annoyed glint in her light blue eyes. He was always causing problems wherever he went especially for Isabelle. They had known each other since they were young. She hadn’t seen the boy for many years but he still had the striking features she remembered. Isabelle chewed her lip. She thought she remembered last seeing him before her father had passed away.  
Sanford smiled warmly as he approached her. He stood a good 8 inches taller than she and made sure she knew it. He placed his arm on her shoulder and leaned against her. “What’s up, mousey?”  
Isabelle glared at him. He always insisted on calling her short nicknames. If he didn’t stop, she was going to show him what he could do with those annoying nicknames. On the outside, she smiled timidly before answering, “Nothing, bigheaded lout.”  
His eyes widened slightly at the subtle insult before his face split into a reproachful grin. “Now you know better than to bear such foul language against a family friend.”  
Isabelle rolled her eyes before glancing past him and paying slightly. Then entirety of the 16 or so women had a mixture of lustful looks for Sanford and baleful glares for herself. Isabelle didn’t know if she would make it unscathed now that the others knew she had a connection to Sanford and she didn’t want to find out. Under her breath, she muttered “Aeons light he’s trying to get me killed.”  
“I must be off. Today is testing day and we must get there on time.” He looked as if to say something but she waved her hand in dismissal. He glared after her for a moment before a suggestive smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Isabelle yelped in surprise as Sanford picked her up from behind and spun her around in a small circle. Isabelle's yelp quickly turned into an angry cry for release and as he sat her back down she sniffed in disapproval. She felt the giant oaf was trying to get her killed and she had half a mind to show him what’s what! Anger tested her self-control before she managed to reel it in.  
“Are you trying to get me killed?” she hissed at him angrily. She smoothed her blouse before shooting him a disapproving glare. At the confused look on his face she sighed, the heat leaving her anger. ‘Men,’ she thought irritably, ‘Trust them never to see anything that’s not beneath their nose. Honestly, how did they expect her to be attracted to a lummox who couldn’t tell the broadside of a shovel from a wagon?’ Finally seeing he still didn’t understand, she gently pushed him to face the crowd still gathered at the register. She’d as soon have been in a pit full of scorpions than face all of those galled women. “Your fan club doesn’t seem to like me.”  
Finally realizing what Isabelle was pointing out, he gave a start. He hadn’t realized the once fawning mass had turned into a roiling pocket of spurned rage. He inspected the women slowly. Isabelle could tell where his eyes were as each woman puffed up and preened under his gaze. He crossed his arms and unknowingly chewed his lip. Once he had looked at each woman, he turned his sharp brown eyes back on Isabelle. Isabelle’s cheeks heated under his gaze before she irritably snapped, “What are you looking at?”  
A vague vulpine look crossed his square but rough features. He wrapped his arms around her waist and before she could wiggle free he whispered softly in her ear, “Come on, Bells. Let’s give them something to be jealous of.” She tried to pull away but his strength outmatched hers. Her face growing even redder, this time from anger, she glared daggers at him. His face was a mere inch from hers, quickening her pulse. Bloody profligate truly was trying to kill her. Her cheeks heated further at the profanity, even if she had not spoken it.  
She pushed him away in hot frustration. Ready to be done with the interaction, she spun on her heels and stomped out of the store. Once outside, she leaned against the black metal support that ran between each of the windows and waited patiently for Chastity to exit the building.  
When the girl finally exited, Isabelle grabbed her hand and just about pulled her down the street. Chastity, still angry from the embrace in the store, yanked her hand free before glaring at Isabelle, her eyes shooting daggers.  
“What exactly was that about?” She demanded. She shifted her weight onto her right leg and tapped her left foot impatiently. “Well? Answer me, mouse!”  
“It was nothing.” Isabelle tossed her head about in irritation, her tail thrashing. “Just a man being as all men are.”  
Chastity huffed and balled her fists on her hips. “That didn’t look like nothing. It looked like you two were about to kiss!”  
“Can we just go, please? He knows I don’t like him like that and he was just trying to make everyone jealous.” Isabelle’s shoulders slumped in resignation. “There is nothing going on between us. I swear by the Aeon’s light. Okay?” After Chastity continued to glare, she added, “By the Aeon’s light and justice, may hellfire and darkness consume me.”  
“I suppose you wouldn’t use that oath unless you meant it.” Chastity eyed Isabelle wearily before allowing Isabelle to herd her towards the entrance of the Paniskism network.  
Isabelle exhaled in relief before placing a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes. The sun had risen beyond the horizon and had begun its journey across the sky, though some clouds still bore the orange tinge of the rising sun. As they walked, they passed many dilapidated buildings that had stood abandoned for many years.  
After the Rabbit prince had attacked the neighboring nation of Aliiya, the nation that the King of the Nugals, , ruled, the war between the nations of Aliiya and Nethedomaan became a reality and not just a rumor in the mouths of travelers. The Rabbit Prince, Vaughn Kildare, had issued a summons for all males, Therians and Nugals, between the ages of 25 and 50 to be conscripted and sent to train in the Prince Kildare’s forces. The conscription, which had been put into place around 5 years ago, had done well to ensure many buildings lacked residents. Few escaped the practical death sentence. The ones who did had tasks or jobs that could not be neglected. This included all of the therians who worked on the Paniskism or held any type of government office.  
With a wan smile, Isabelle turned away from the old buildings and continued her walk with Chastity. She hated thinking about the war. It caused a crushing sadness to blossom in her chest. She could hardly remember why but thoughts of the war invoked a strong feeling that something or someone was missing. Maybe she had forgotten who or what it was and she should remember. Chewing her lip in contemplation, she sighed before casting a side long look at the feline girl and asked, “How do you think you will do?”  
“I just know I will be placed in the command center. I’ve been practicing enough and I think I have got the superior sight.” She flicked a hand through her hair and tugged her red brown cat ear before confidently stating, “I know I have it. They’ll have no choice but to place me in the command center. It’s a rare trait, you know. Only 1 in 10,000 actually has the ability. I think I have the enhanced scent and stealth traits but I know I have the sight.”  
Among the therians who worked on the gears and cogs of the Paniskism, a large amount developed abilities beyond that of the average prophet. It was not uncommon for a prophet to develop as many as four or five of the ten traits as well. A prophet began showing signs of their trait as early as 11 and as late as 19 which were used to determine what position they would hold in the Paniskism. Every prophet bore pins that signified which traits they had developed on their collars so at first glance one would be able to tell which teams the prophet belonged to.  
Each prophet was assigned one primary team and a varying amount of second teams, depending on their traits. The most common traits were enhanced sense of smell, enhanced combat skills, and increased stealth capabilities. Nearly all prophets developed these.  
“Which traits do you think you will have?”  
Isabelle gave a start. She had gotten lost in her thoughts of the different traits and she had had completely missed when the other girl had stopped about ten paces back. She stopped and turned to face her. She tilted her head a bit to the left before saying, “I’m not sure. I believe I have the sight. I suppose I have the enhanced instinct trait too. I have always been really lucky and able to make decisions with the best possible outcome.” She chewed her lip and her eyes unfocused as she thought more about her capabilities. “I think I have speed too. Mom is always saying I move too quickly for her but I never really put much thought into it. Maybe the enhanced scent as well. She says I always pick up on her moods quickly and know just when to cheer her up.”  
Chastity crossed the few paces until she was with Isabelle once more. Her brows furrowed in consternation and grabbed Isabelle’s hand. Chastity tugged her feline ear once more before starting towards the grey building that housed the stair case to the Paniskism.  
The building itself was rather small. It was one story high with a low ceiling and few torches to light the dim room. At the far end of the room, opposite the entrance from outside, a dark oak door stood barely distinguishable in the gloom. Isabelle clenched her hand nervously around Chastity’s bag and her eyes widened. She had nearly forgotten she was carrying it. Shifting her weight from side to side, she looked at Chastity. “Are you ready?”  
Chastity nodded and strode across the room to open the door. She jiggled the handle a few times before complaining, “It’s stuck. I don’t have all day, you know. Fix it.” she snatched her things from Isabelle’s hands before shoving the girl towards the door.  
Isabelle clenched her teeth to bite back her words and gripped the handle. She tested the handle by wiggling it up and down. Satisfied she had enough of a gauge on the force needed, she yanked the door handle down; the door swung inwardly, opening to reveal a wide maw of darkness.  
Isabelle shuddered. The stairwell that led down to the Paniskism was nothing but a long black tunnel angled downwards towards the center of the planet. The Paniskism itself spanned the entirety of the planet’s inside but the only way to really maintain it and travel was through networks of tunnels and passageways. She didn’t mind working down there in the dull glow of torch light but the descent always made fear build in her gut. She never could figure out why. Most prophets could pass through without so much as a glance but not her.  
Chastity began the long walk and went about twenty pace before realizing Isabelle still stood frozen at the entrance. “Come, Isabelle! We don’t have time for your childish fears. We will be late.” She stamped her foot impatiently. Isabelle gulped but slowly took the first few steps into the tunnel. Isabelle straightened her back before following Chastity into the darkness.  
When the tunnel finally levelled, they emerged in a square room with murals feigning landscape on the walls and ceiling. There were several torches on the wall, casting an eerie orange hue on everything. There were two large wooden tables with an assortment of chairs around them. None of them really matched the other but all were arranged neatly. A worn brown rug layed in the center of the room and circled to encompass nearly the entire floor.  
Isabelle exhaled deeply. She wasn’t aware that she had been holding her breathe. When she inhaled, the room smelled damp with touches of smoke and a hint of rotting wood. She wrinkled her nose before she caught herself and smoothed her features. She walked past Chastity to one of the two guards that stood guarding the entrance to the Paniskism network. She beamed up at him and wrapped her arms around him.  
“Today’s the day, isn’t it?” He said, smiling down at her. “Go on through. You know the route to the mess hall. I don’t need to lead you, do I?  
Isabelle shook her head. This soldier, she could never remember his name, had been guarding the entrance ever since they had had to relocate here. He had always been kind and understanding with her. She remembered him holding a much younger Isabelle’s and leading the crying girl through the tunnels to her training. She gave him one more smile before entering the tunnels.  
These tunnels were lit much more clearly. Several lanterns hung from the walls ensuring proper coverage. Along the walls, the Paniskism did its work. The cogs and gears turned methodically, always in rhythm and always together. The whole system seemed like one large chain reaction. This cog here turned the one next to it and that one the one next to that and so on. The system went on for as far as Isabelle’s eyes could see. She had watched some older prophets repairing the cogs once. They had had to pull out several smaller ones before being able to crawl into the machine and to reach the one in disrepair. She had later found out that the cogs beyond what the eye could see needed prophets of both the enhanced hearing and intuition traits. The prophets with the feline ear pin were able to detect the extremely high pitched grating noise the gear made and those with the clover pin were able to successfully locate it without too much trouble. The whole thing had fascinated Isabelle and her chest brimmed with pride thinking about everything she would accomplish once she had her pins. So lost in her memories, Isabelle nearly walked past the entrance to the hall before Chastity’s voice pulled her back.  
“We’re here!” She exclaimed excitedly. The mess hall was an extremely large room that normally held plenty of tables and chairs arranged in subtle floral patterns. For the occasion, though, all of the tables had been pushed back and the chairs arranged in neat rows of fifteen by twelve. In the center of the chairs was a path running from the back to the front, a brown blue carpet covering the length. Overhead a chandelier hung. It was composed of the clearest crystal that could be found scattered throughout the Paniskism in easy to reach places.  
Inside the room, around one hundred and fifty prophets were milling about. These were all of the graduating class from the nations. Isabelle looked at each of them. A rabbit therian was deep in conversation with what looked to be a black bird therian. Avian therians were incredibly uncommon. She studied his face. He had no discernable bird features other than a beak like nose and sharp bird like features. When he turned though, she saw a plume of raven black feathers sprouting from where a normal tail would be. She inhaled sharply, awed at the sight before moving her gaze. More prophets stood chatting away with each other creating a light buzz in the room.  
Chastity pulled Isabelle’s hand towards one of the center rows of chairs, chatting about something. Isabelle let the girl lead her but continued to take in the other prophets. It was an odd sight. Isabelle had never seen so many prophets in the same place. There were different therians from mice to birds to amphibians, though the amphibians made Isabelle uneasy. She wasn’t sure what it was about their faintly green skin or their huge eyes that did it but she kept her distance as best she could. When Chastity stopped, Isabelle finally looked at her. The girl was glaring at her, arms crossed and her weight shifting from side to side. Isabelle was taken aback slightly before asking, “I’m sorry what?”  
“You are absolutely useless!” Chastity remarked in a bitter tone. “Honestly, if I weren’t so gracious as to allow you to be my friend you wouldn’t have any. Sit down! The ceremony is about to start and I refuse to let you ruin it for me.” She huffed in annoyance before dropping into her seat and snatched her bag from Isabelle’s grip.  
Isabelle rolled her eyes before sitting down herself and biting back some harsh words. A stage stood in the south end of the large room. Green felt curtains hung from either side of the 30’ ceiling. A podium made of dark oak wood rose from the center of the stage. Isabelle could see the shadow of a man approaching the square thing before he stopped to turn to someone she couldn’t see. The man was 6’2 with close cropped black hair and chocolate brown eyes. As soon as he stood under the light illuminating the podium, Isabelle recognized him as Hildebrand Sheay. He turned around to say a few more things to the unseen figure before speaking into a large leaf rolled into the shape of a cone, quieting the crowd. The leaf cone amplified his voice so that it carried and echoed off the high ceiling and walls.  
“Welcome! I see many familiar faces in the crowd before me.” Hildebrand’s smile just barely touched his weary eyes. “Today, you kids will take a momentous step in your lives. You have all completed the necessary classes and education required of those who desire to work on the Paniskism. You have undergone harsh training in unforgiving circumstances to stand before me today.” He began pacing a small line in front of the podium. “You are those gifted with the knowledge and skills to maintain the core of this world. It will be your duty to ensure they are function properly and to make repairs. I am sure we all know that if the Paniskism stops, this world and everything on it, including us, will die. I don’t need to tell you how important this job is. You have worked in the tunnels and pathways. You have seen the normal wear and tear on the cogs and gears. You have seen the rapid deterioration caused by the hurt and rage from the war and the beasts that roam the tunnels. This is not an easy job.  
“By now, most of you have already learned that in order to repair the Paniskism, we must place the decayed cog into the heart of the Paniskism so that it may be filled with the unity of the core and surface and that the recovery time varies depending on the size of the cog. If you have not figured this out,” He stopped pacing and turned his body, shoulders squared on his muscular frame and hard brown eyes surveying, towards the assembled prophets, “You’re in the wrong place and you should leave now.  
“You should all be aware of the basic requirements needed to survive in the Paniskism. A prophet must have strength, endurance, the ability to detect decay, stamina, and a high pain threshold. Those who cannot pass these tests will not be allowed to work on the Paniskism.” The crowd of prophets visibly began to shift uncomfortably on their seat which caused a low scuffling noise to become audible. Hildebrand waved his hand to silence the room. “Before we reach these core tests, you will first be tested for your traits. As you all know, there are ten traits a prophet can have. Most prophets have more than one but you will only be assigned to one team and placed on standby for others. You will receive a pin to indicate the trait if you pass the test. After you have finished testing for traits, the core requirements will come next. After all of your testing has concluded, we will assemble once more for team assignments.”  
Isabelle’s mind raced as terror gripped her heart. She couldn’t imagine not being able to work on the cogs. A lump formed in her throat and tears caught in her eyes. She shook her head to try and rid herself of the nasty thoughts but was unsuccessful. She chewed her lip with efforts to bite back the unshed tears. Her palms felt clammy and sweat began to bead in the small of her back. She was over reacting and she knew it. She hadn’t heard of anyone not being allowed to work on the Paniskism in her town. Fervently, she decided that he was just kidding and there was no way she was going to fail. She would show them all! She rubbed her hands together absent mindedly, trying to control her wild emotions. When she finally had a handle on them, she looked up and gave a start.  
She had lost focus on Hildebrand in her efforts and when she looked up, Hildebrand had returned to the podium with a restrained, familiar gait. He was smiling. Isabelle looked around to perceive the mood of the crowd and saw that most of them were smiling too. She felt relieved she had not missed anything important.  
Hildebrand’s smile left his lips and was replaced by a grim line and a distant look in his eyes. “I won’t lie to you. Some of you will die working in the Paniskism. We take precautions to limit the possibility but it does happen. You will lose your friends and the people you love.” The room was stony silent and cold. It seemed to stretch on for hours to Isabelle. Her skin began to crawl when Hildebrand finally seemed to come back to the present, his eyes focusing upon the crowd. He smiled once more but it didn’t touch his eyes, “Congratulations on completing your training, kids. I look forward to seeing you in the Paniskism.”  
The crowd roared its answer back. Many had thrown articles of clothing into the air and everything from hats to socks cascaded down in patches. Prophets stood, hugging each other and crying tears of happiness. Hildebrand watched the cacophony for a few moments before waving the room to silence once more. “An instructor will come and take each of you to your tests. Please wait patiently in your seats. Congratulations to you all.” Hildebrand wiped his brow before disappearing into the mass of bodies. Isabelle wasn’t sure where he had gone but the thoughts were pushed aside when an instructor approached her and Chastity.  
Isabelle thought the woman was a panther therian but she couldn’t be sure without asking; her face tinged pink at the thought of asking such a question of a stranger. The instructor carried a clip board with a tidy list of names on yellow paper. Her grey eyes ran down the list through her black bangs. She tapped a blue feather quill against her lips before peering at the two girls before her.  
“Chastity Servat?” She asked in a high pitched, lilting voice. When Chastity nodded to acknowledge the woman, she responded, “Please come with me. We will begin your testing with the enhanced hearing trait.”  
Isabelle watched as the instructor lead Chastity away, who turned to stick her tongue out at Isabelle. She was surprised when she felt anger and jealousy for the girl. She hadn’t ever felt that way towards her. Isabelle reasoned that it was just because she had wanted to go first but still she couldn’t get over the bitter feeling. She sat back in her chair to wait. She lost concentration on her surroundings and began to daydream.  
Many other instructors arrived to lead away the various prophets. The numbers dwindled down to one hundred. Then there were only fifty left. Finally, when there were about twenty prophets who had not been tested, Chastity came back out. Isabelle wasn’t sure how much time had passed. She had gotten lost in thoughts of working in the core and having all of the traits. Seeing Chastity had snapped her from her daydream and she turned her focus on the pins circling the girl’s neck.  
“I get to work in the core!” Chastity exclaimed, ecstatic. She proudly presented four pins circling her neck. There were pins shaped like an eye, a cat ear, a dog nose, and a paw. They were all small and silver. “You see? I do have the enhanced sight, enhanced smelling, stealth, and enhanced hearing! I predicted them all!” She pulled herself up and strode stiff backed and proud to her chair. “Sanford will have no choice but to notice me now. I am officially one of the more important people here in town.” She sniffed disapprovingly at Isabelle before sneering, “I see that you have no pins. Did you fail the testing? It’s okay if you did, I will still need someone to carry my things.”  
Isabelle thought she had her temper under control but the patronizing look she had intended turned into a glare and before she could stop herself, she frostily replied, “You’re incredibly daft if you think Sanford is going to care where you work. I haven’t been called back yet, for your information. Not that it would get through any of that big self-worth of yours anyways.” Isabelle flushed red, though from embarrassment or anger she couldn’t say and she wrapped her tail around her midriff. Chastity’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out from her head while her tail thrashed about behind her in anger. Fortunately, an instructor began to approach.  
He was a dog therian. His droopy canine ears parted his mud brown hair and nearly hid his matching mud brown eyes. His dark brown skin made his pale green trousers stand out stark. “Isabelle Demison?”  
Isabelle took one glance at Chastity, whose face was fuming and bright red from held back anger and shot out of her seat softly answering, “Yes, that’s me. Let’s go.” The instructor’s eye brows shot up but scurried away in the direction of one of the exits.  
Relief flooded Isabelle. The last time she had not held her tongue, Chastity had started a nasty rumor that Isabelle had been sleeping in an older boy’s bed. It had taken four months of convincing her mother that she didn’t even like boys before Ella had even considered letting Isabelle leave her room on the weekends. She wasn’t sure what meanness the girl would come up with this time and she was grateful that once she began working in the Paniskism she wouldn’t have to see her as often.  
Coming back to her senses, Isabelle studied the instructor in front of her. He wore a dark brown tunic with pale green pants and leather slippers. His muddy brown canine tail swished from side to side with each step. Isabelle loved that. She wished her tail would look as beautiful as one with fur. Sighing, she mentally berated herself for being envious and instead looked to the door instead.  
“Where are we going? Which test is first?” Isabelle was genuinely curious. She wasn’t sure if there was a specific order to these tests or if it was random. They passed through the exit door and into the dimly lit tunnels before the instructor responded.  
“Your first test is for the sight. Notes from your trainers indicate that you have it. Since it is rare we want to check that first. After that will be hearing.” He finished his last sentence staring at his clipboard. After around fifty more paces, he stopped in front of a brass door with studded bolts lacing through a large X in the center. “For this test, you will need to view each cog and place them in order from least damaged to most. There will be four tables for you to view. Each table has twelve different gears on it. You will have all the time you need to complete this task. When you are finished, you will wait outside while your work is reviewed. If you pass, you will receive the eye pin. Do you understand these instructions?”  
Isabelle nodded agreement and looked at him one more time before he ushered her into the room. Like he said, there were four separate tables with twelve cogs laid upon them. The tables were plain wood with a polished red coat. She looked around the room and saw that aside from the tables, there was nothing else in the room but another door broke the smooth rocky wall on the opposite side. She slowly padded over to the nearest table, her tail in a low but curious position. Eyeing the gears lain down, she inspected each one closely.  
Several were only minutely damaged while others much were much more noticeable. Isabelle smiled before picking up one of the smaller cogs and placing it on the left side of the table.  
“They couldn't have made this any easier,” Isabelle said to herself. “I’ll be out of here in no time!” With this affirmation, she began to arrange the cogs from most damaged to least in a studious manner. When she had finished with the first table, she smiled and paused before making short work of the other three as well. Completing the last table, Isabelle left the room the same way she had gone in.  
The instructor was still standing there and a look of surprise touched his features when Isabelle opened the metal door.  
“Finished already?” He questioned. When Isabelle nodded, he moved past her in a graceful manner and entered the room. Several minutes passes before he came back out. He beamed at her and handed her a shiny silver eye pin.  
Isabelle gasped with shock and excitement. She had just been confirmed with the enhanced sight trait. She smiled and lovingly fingered the pin. After examining it’s lines and curves for a full minute, she undid the clasp and secured it to her collar.  
“We’ve had five this year alone discovered with the trait. It has been incredible! The last time so many were discovered at the same time was in the years of Toltas the Great.”  
“That was five hundred years ago. Are you sure?”  
He smiled at her again before lifting the collar of his dark brown tunic, revealing five silver pins, the most prominent being the Eye that indicated enhanced sight. “I’m one hundred percent positive. We keep exceptional records in the Core. All prophets who have the sight work in the Core and very few of us are around the same age. In any case, we need to get you to your next test. I believe it is hearing next.”  
He gave her a reluctant smile and started off down the tunnel. Pride swelled in Isabelle’s chest and she hastened her steps to keep up. She chewed her lip before asking, “What’s your name? You never told me. If we are going to work together, I should at least know your name, right?”  
He gave her a studying side long glance, tightness forming at the corner of his eyes. “Its against the testing rules to speak about anything other than instruction for the test. I’ve already said too much. Once the tests have concluded, we can talk then. Okay?”  
His words confused Isabelle. She wasn’t sure why they weren’t allowed to speak normally. She wanted to know more about this man she would be working with so she pressed on, “Your name can’t possibly alter anything to do with the tests. I don’t see the harm in us talking while we move from test to test. From observation, we will likely be spending a few hours together today alone. Why not make it easier and have some real company?”  
He stopped to look at her and she knew she was walking a fine line with the therian. His mouth worked on words he wanted to say but held back. He sighed and continued walking. “What do you want to know?”  
“Where are you from? Your accent is too clipped to be from Nethedomaan and you’re much darker in complexion than most around here.”  
He laughed lightly before responding. “Noticed that, did you? I’m from Veryni. I was born in a small town to human parents. It caused quite the uproar with my father. He was very angry with my mother until the town’s healer told him it was a genetic mutation and not a result of infidelity.”  
Isabelle started. She wasn’t sure what she had thought but she knew she didn’t think of therians as mutations. She chewed the inside of her cheek. She had always assumed that a human must have bedded a therian and there was a chance of a human or a therian. The thought shook her to the bone. Could this be the reason some humans looked down upon therians? She wasn’t sure but it tickled her memory regarding something she’d heard in lectures. Puzzling it out, she gasped. “That’s rare for a therians to be birthed by humans! In lecture, they said that it was the reason for the Aeon’s War.” Her lectures were coming back in floods now. “A therian was born to a king and queen and thinking his queen had been seduced by his neighboring monarch, he declared war and started the Aeons war to exterminate the prophets. Only, as their numbers dwindled, the world became sick and started to die. The kings great grandson, aged and weary from fighting his entire life, claimed to have met a direct descendant of the Aeons who told him that if he kept to his path, he would destroy the world. When the new king looked around and saw his people suffering hunger and despair he ceased the war, calling for a truce and ending the one hundred years Aeon War, named for the extermination of the prophets of aeon.”  
The instructor grinned. “You know your history! What they don’t teach you though,” he looked around and dropped his voice conspiratorially, “is that the great grandson of the king who started the war actually fell in love with a therian. They say she was the real hand behind the end of the war.”  
Isabelle’s eyes widened. She hasn’t heard this last part and wondered how much merit she could place into it. It was a nice love story though and she decided she liked it. Realizing she still did not know the man’s name, she sniffed disapprovingly. “A fine way to distract me from learning your name indeed but I shall have it.”  
He sighed in exasperation. “Can’t you just accept the conversation? I hardly see how it matters what my name is.”  
“It might not matter to you but I like to be in the habit of knowing my friends names!” Honestly! The man was infuriating and Isabelle had no idea what she had done to the Aeons to deserve such wool headed men plaguing her. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and stopped moving, staring the man down. “I do not need your full name, just a name by which I can call you.” Isabelle was not going to say please.  
He glared at her. He too crossed his arms and glowered at her for a full minute before his face twisted into a sour expression. Impatiently, Isabelle tapped her foot and balled her fists on her hips, her mouse tail flicking in irritation. She knew she shouldn’t press further but she couldn’t stop her tongue from biting. “Was it your father who raised you to be so stubborn and rude?”  
His shoulders stiffened and instinct told Isabelle she had pushed too far. He turned hard mud brown eyes on her and spoke, “For the hearing test you will hear six different pitches in the room. These are the normal pitches all prophets can hear. There will be four additional pitches in the room. You are to locate each pitch and number them from one to ten. One being the lowest pitch, ten being the highest. Once you have completed this, you will step outside and wait for your results to be calculated. If you pass, you will be given the cat ear pin. Do you understand these instructions?”  
Isabelle opened her mouth to voice an apology but the words died on her lips when she looked at his expression more closely. At first glance he looked angry but now that she was actually looking, he looked frightened. The corners of his eyes were tight and his mouth was set in a line. She changed what she was going to say. “I understand.”  
She wasn’t sure why, but she thought his eyes looked relieved and grateful that she hadn’t pushed further. She unclenched her fists and sighed before entering the wooden door that stood before her. When she got out of here, she was going to give him a piece of her mind if he was still around. She turned around to close it and noticed there were pockets of stuffing sewed onto it. A brief cursory examination of the room showed the same pockets were sewn onto the walls and ceiling as well.  
Isabelle tilted her head and wondered why they had felt the need for this. She reasoned that it was likely for better soundproofing and walked to the center of the room where an X was worn into the grey stone floor. It dipped slightly so the impression was visible but not enough to cause anyone to trip were they not paying attention. Standing on it, she looked around the room and wondered when the test would begin. She thought she was in the room for quite some time but couldn't be sure as there was no indication that time was passing. For all she knew, she was standing in a time shard where time was frozen outside of it. Her mind worked itself into numerous what if scenarios before she began to hear a soft clicking noise that was quickly followed by a soft humming note.  
She waited patiently for all of the sounds to come before beginning to move about the room. A sudden thought struck her. She had no idea how she was to mark the sounds from lowest to highest. She pondered this absently as she made her way to the lowest sound she could detect. It lay in the bottom of east wall about 2 squares up. She crouched and noticed the squares had slits on the top and reached inside to grab a small square device. Puzzled, she turned it over in her hand to examine it. It was solid black and had small grooves along the surfaces. She wasn’t sre what it was for but held onto the device and stood up. She moved silently to the next deepest sound. This device was mid way up the wall and directly in the corner. Grabbing it, she turned once more to pick out the next sound.  
This continued until she was balancing all ten devices in her arms. Isabelle smiled triumphantly before wondering what to do next. It was then that she realized there was a row of squares on the wall next to the entry. Isabelle’s wondered if that had been there before as she padded over and began to arrange the devices in order from deepest to highest. When she had completed this, she stepped out of the room.  
To her surprise, the same instructor was still there but his eyes were no longer cold. Completely startled by his presence and change of attitude, she lost the heat behind her words, “I’m finished. If You will hurry up and check so we can get this over with, you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”  
The instructor gave her a sad smile before entering the room. A few minutes later, he emerged and handed her the cat ear pin. “Congratulations on your second trait. Your next test will determine your combat abilities and if you have the regeneration trait. Come with me.”  
Isabelle rolled her eyes and mutter under her breath about not having any choice. She knew he had heard her because his back stiffened but he said nothing. They walked in silence for a good one hundred paces before he softly said, “We aren’t supposed to talk to you because you might not pass your core tests. They don’t want us to develop a friendship with someone who fails because the participant who fails may seek us out to allow them into the tunnels and give them clearance.”  
Isabelle stared at his back. His shoulders moved sinuously beneath his tunic and his tail moved from side to side. She chewed the inside of her cheek thinking about this. She could see why it would make him uncomfortable now. If she knew his name and she failed, she was sure she would seek him out and try for another chance. Frustration made her words sharper than she intended, “ You could have just said so. Then I wouldn’t have called you friend and made you uncomfortable.”  
When was she going to learn to keep her mouth shut? Isabelle sighed and continued, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to be friends. That’s all. I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble or anything.”  
He glanced over his shoulder at her. He gave her a half smile and stopped in front of a wooden door. It was plain wood but had a silver handle. “I am not angry with you,” he said with a gentle tone, “This is a combination test. Inside you will find another instructor. Your goal is to land a hit on he or she to score a point. The first to five points will win the match. This will determine your combat, speed, and strength skills. Additionally, we will note any previous wounds you may have and track how quickly the new ones heal. This will determine your regeneration skills. If you show exceptional speed here, we may be able to elevate you for the enhanced speed pin without the need for the additional test. Do you understand these instructions?”  
Isabelle stared at the door before nodding. She gripped the cool metal handle and twisted. Raising her hand to shield her eyes, she stepped into a blinding white room with a tall charcoal and hide sign on the left side of the room. On the right side of the room, a woman with moss green hair and mossy wolf ears looked at her through emerald green eyes. She didn’t look to be too much older than Isabelle and her form was muscular but maintained its feminine air. Isabelle was taken aback by her beauty and blushed slightly when she realized the woman was smiling at her.  
“Please step over here and take off your clothing. You must be examined thoroughly before we begin testing to determine if you have any prior wounds or scars.” The woman indicated a small square on the grey rock floor and looked at Isabelle expectantly.  
Isabelle’s face turned scarlet and she took her time walking to the square. She brought her eyes to meet the instructors and immediately dropped them again, not knowing she could blush so much. She spoke in a soft, timid voice, “Is it possible for me to have a male instructor examine me?”  
The woman seemed startled at the question. She eyed Isabelle thoughtfully and smiled more broadly when she began turning pink again. “Oh, I think I understand.” She moved so close that Isabelle could feel the warmth of her breath on her face and her pulse quickened. “I will ask your chauffeur to examine you, is that alright?”  
Isabelle felt like her heart was in her throat, slamming against a metal wall with all the noise it was making. She nodded and blushed even more when the woman stepped back and laughed. This time, Isabelle was sure she was blushing from embarrassment. She thought she should have better control of her body and cursed her heartbeat for racing so wildly.  
“I’ll step out and retrieve him.” The woman gave her a salacious grin before exiting the room. Her instructor, Isabelle had no idea when she had begun to think of him as hers, entered the room and closed the door. His eyes held amusement but he kept his face professional and walked to stand beside her. A kind smile touched his lips and he spoke in a kind voice, “She explained the examination?” Isabelle nodded and took off her blouse and skirt to stand nude before the therian. She held out her arms and spread her legs shoulder length.  
Isabelle held still as he walked around her in a circle with a different clip board than the one he had been carrying for the duration of her tests. He scribbled a few notes here and there but soon finished and stopped in front of her. He smiled again and placed the clipboard onto the table. “You may dress now. You have no scars or recent wounds to record so that was a quick exam. This is a good sign and you most likely have the regeneration trait too. You keep at it and you will be one of the squad leaders sooner than you think. Are you dressed? Good, I am going to let the combat instructor back in now. Good luck, Isabelle.”  
He opened the wooden door and stepped out. A few moments later the woman with the short moss green hair walked through the door. She looked Isabelle up and down, not bothering to hide the action. Isabelle turned scarlet and she blurted, “Can we proceed with testing now?”  
“Sure. Step over here. A bit more to your right. There. He told you to win you must score five points, right? Good. On my mark… Mark!” The instructor moved too quickly for Isabelle to follow. One moment, Isabelle was standing and looking at the instructor and in the span of a few seconds, she was sitting on the ground with a large lump on her head. She moved her hand to the lump in delayed reaction to the pain. She didn’t cry out but accepted help getting back onto her feet.  
“Ready?” The instructor asked, preparing to attack. Isabelle nodded once more. The instructor blurred out of her vision and Isabelle felt her legs get swept out from underneath her. Her face hit the stone floor and she felt liquid warmth running down her chin. She sat up and rubbed the back of her hand across her nose. She flinched in pain, realizing it was broken. Standing up, anger bubbled in her chest and she resolved herself to hit the instructor the next time. She knew she wasn’t the best fighter, but she did have speed. She inhaled deeply and focused herself, only allowing her mind to think of watching the instructors’ movements.  
“Ready? Mark!” This time, Isabelle was able to track the instructors’ movements. She stepped back to avoid a kick to the stomach and dodge another aimed for her legs. The instructor smiled and leapt at her. Isabelle rolled forward and spun around in time for the instructors’ fist to connect with her jaw and be sent spiraling to the floor a few paces back. The instructor smiled happily at her before exclaiming, “Well done! You don’t have the enhanced combat skills or the strength but you surely have the enhanced speed skill! I have it myself and you wouldn’t have been able to keep up if you didn’t have at least the ability to train it. Now, lets go look at your wounds to check how they’re healing up.”  
She helped Isabelle to her feet before walking to where the clipboard with her medical examination lay. She picked up the dark clipboard and flipped the yellow pages up as she read the previous notes on the page. After looking at the pages for what seemed like more than a few moments, she glanced up to exam the the beating she had given Isabelle in the few moments of combat. “Well well well, it looks like you have regeneration too. Very nice!”  
She smiled at Isabelle broadly as she passed her two pins, the winged boot for her speed and the tiny plus sign that signified her regeneration skills. Isabelle’s hands trembled excitedly as she took the proffered items. She moved her thumbs lovingly over the small silver objects and hurriedly fastened them to her collar. Beaming, she looked straight into the instructors eyes and hugged her before turning scarlet and jumping back as if she’d been burned. Quietly, she said, “Thank you, I’ll be leaving now.”  
“You are very welcome, Isabelle.” The woman replied. When isabelle turned her back and had nearly made it through the door, the woman called to her and very seductively added, “I hope to see you soon, lovely.”  
Isabelle bolted from the room and nearly ran into her chauffeur. She veered left at the last moment and took a good six paces before she was finally able to regain her balance. Her face heated and she sharply said, “Why don’t you stand somewhere you wont get hit, rock brain?” She turned to look at his surprised and slightly wounded eyes and felt guilty. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect to run into someone so close to the door and you caught me off guard.”  
Looking mollified, her instructor smiled and looked at the light brown clipboard in his hand. Isabelle wondered briefly if there were any significance to the different colors of the clipboards before the sound of his voice brought her back, “Looks like the next test is the ability to shift. Then immediately after that we will cover your sense of smell and intuition abilities.”  
“Shifting?” Isabelle’s eyes widened and she noticed the distinct sound of disbelief in her voice. “No one has shifted since Toltas and it was said he was the only one. How do you even test for such a thing?”  
He eyed her but said nothing and continued down the hall. They continued in silence for quite some time before Isabelle broke the silence by asking, “Is there even anyone alive who can shift?”  
“Three that we know of for certain.” His tone wasn’t as sharp as it had been earlier but he clearly was reluctant to speak on the subject. “There are usually four every one hundred years and they are almost always a Descendant of Aeon, though there have been cases where the Descendant couldn’t shift. We have only discovered three this time though. A fourth may yet be discovered so we continue to test for it.  
His mention of the Descendants of Aeon tickled some distant memory but she couldn’t place it and decided to push it away for later. She thought about his words. A person who could shape shift would be a rare thing. Isabelle wasn’t sure she could believe such a thing but throughout history there were reported cases of it. Not many but they were there, almost in obscurity. A question came to her mind and she soon voiced it. “What happens to those who can shift? I can’t imagine they are able to roam freely.”  
“Well, I’m not sure, to be honest.” He ran his hand through his mud brown hair and sighed. “Ive never met a shifter, have you? Most people believe they are just old stories told to frighten kids into kindness to animals. My mother used to tell me stories of Toltas the Great! Best therian to ever live and a falcon shifter to boot! Best finish your vegetables or he’ll come to carry you away!” He scowled at the memories before giving Isabelle an apologetic look. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on like that. What I meant to say was I don’t know. In any case, we are here. Go on in and sit in the chair. Someone will be with you shortly.”  
He gave her a gentle prod into the next room. The door was wooden like the last one and this room too was brightly lit, though not as bright. Inside, a wooden chair sat in the middle of the room. To either side, bare wooden tables ran the length of the wall and few other decorations were found. All around the room was bare though Isabelle thought this might be due to shifting. Nervously, she walked to the chair and looked it over. It was smoothed down and had long, knobby legs to support it. She walked around the back and noticed nothing more of interest. She gingerly lowered herself into the chair and waited. She waited what seemed to be a good ten minutes before someone spoke to her from behind.  
“Don’t turn around or get up. Close your eyes and relax.”  
Isabelle froze in the action of getting and settled back in, closing her eyes. She couldn’t tell if the voice was male or female but decided it wasn’t important. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a light touch on her temples. The touch moved from her temples to her neck in a soft, sliding motion. Isabelle had finally begun to relax when the soft touch moved again, this time to her jaw. The feeling slightly increased in pressure before relaxing again. Isabelle could almost imagine she was getting a soft massage. Her mind wandered and it was some time before she realized the touch was absent. Her eyes shot open and she was nearly blinded by the light pointed directly at her face so she quickly shut her them once more. A harsh voice broke the peaceful calm she had wrapped around herself.  
“Keep your eyes closed!” The harsh voice snapped. “We are almost done and we don’t need you ruining our results!”  
Another ten minutes had passed before she was spoken to again. It was the first voice she couldn’t identify coming from the same spot she had heard it from. “Our tests have concluded. Unfortunately, you do not have the shifter trait. Please continue with your tests. Good luck.”  
Isabelle stood up but was nearly knocked over with relief at not having the trait. She wobbled a bit and had to grip the chair for support as she attempted to get her legs back. Shaking off her unsteadiness, she straightened and moved to the door. She walked out quickly again, albeit much more slowly than from the combat test. She smiled to see her instructor had taken her advice and stood more than six paces to the left of the door, well out of the way if someone, namely herself, decided to charge out the door. He looked up from his clipboard and smiled. Isabelle grinned and couldn’t resist teasing him, “I see you learned some sense.”  
“Well, I had no desire to be called anything worse than a rock brain.” This caused Isabelle to flush and he chuckled, amused. “Lets get a move on. We are coming to the last two remaining traits to test for.”  
Isabelle looked at him in consternation. She chewed her cheek as she mentally counted the traits she had tested for. She had earned four traits and only been tested for seven. She opened her mouth to voice this when he cut her off.  
“I have been testing your stealth skills the entire duration we have been together and unfortunately you have not passed this test. This test you are about to take is a combination test. It will determine your sense of smell and your intuition. After this you will have concluded all testing for the traits and will move onto the core testing. This will be my final stop with you.” He smiled sadly before setting the clipboard down on the ground next to the metal door of the next test. “I have enjoyed chatting with you and hope to see you in the tunnels soon. When you conclude this test, pick up this clipboard and take it through the doors with you. Good luck, Isabelle.”  
Sadness shot through Isabelle like lightning as she watched him walk away and then anger at everyone wishing her good luck. She wanted him to come back and stay with her for the rest of her testing so she could shake him and tell him she didn’t need his luck but knew he couldn’t possibly do such a thing as staying. He had already broken some of the rules set as instructors and she didn’t want to cause him any more trouble.  
Sighing in acceptance, she stepped through the metal door. Immediately, her nose was assaulted by all kinds of different scents and sights. In one corner of the room, a small garden had been planted with numerous flowers and other leafy green plants. On the other side of the room, a table with various items laid atop it took up most of the remaining space. Bewildered, Isabelle progressed further into the room and was greeted by a female human with black hair and brown eyes.  
“Welcome, Isabelle. Here we will test your sense of smell and your intuition capabilities. For your sense of smell, we will allow you to peruse the garden for a few moments to gain a distinction for each flower and plant. Then we will blind fold you and bring various plants behind you for you to determine which one they are. If you can get three of five you will pass the enhanced smelling test.” She smiled and showed two rows of perfect teeth. She moved behind Isabelle and ushered her further into the room before waving her hand to the table \, “There we will test your intuition by having you view all of the various items and then use your instinct to pick out the five items that seem most important. Do you understand?”  
Isabelle nodded and allowed herself to be further moved into the room. She was directed towards the garden and she examined the plants as soon as she was close enough. There were many different types of flowers ranging from blue to yellow and a few small large leafed plants. There was one particular plant she was all too familiar with and she shuddered when she noticed the sting briar. When she was a kid, Sanford had pushed her into one and she had had tiny welts that burned for days. Bitter at the memory, she steeled herself and proceed to examine. After she felt like she had a good enough scent memory, she nodded to the instructor and allowed herself to be blind folded.

She walked out of the room holding the small clover pin that indicated she had the intuition trait and smiled gleefully before adding it to her collar where her other four pins were already fastened. She looked around for her instructor but her smile slipped from her face when she remembered he would not be going further with her. She sighed and stooped to pick up the clipboard. As she straightened, she examined the clip board. There were several yellow pages on it with her test results and comments from her instructor. Examining the last page, she smiled broadly and tears welled up in her eyes. In the additional comments her instructor had left her a small note.  
“I do hope that we will see each other again.  
\- Your instructor, Fenak Ae’el”  
She clutched the clipboard to her chest and her heart soared. She wasn’t sure why but she felt a kind of kinship with him and was excited at the prospect of seeing him again. She wondered what she would say to him. Apologize for being so annoying? Aeons, Sanford was the people person, not her but she couldn’t stop herself from being excited about making a new friend.  
Coming back to the matter at hand, She straightened and began to walk towards the tall wooden doors Fenak had pointed out. She smiled at using his name before focusing once more. She passed through the doors and blinked. Inside the massive room were several different stations. She imagined that all of her core tests were in one area and began to walk towards the closest one.  
As she neared, it appeared to be the test of strength. Isabelle wasn’t super strong but she could handle the normal weight load required of prophets and it was no surprise to her when she passed her core test for strength. She passed by the decay detection booth and showed them her eye pin. They smiled broadly at her before waving her on. No need to test someone who has the ability to see all levels of decay, right?  
She moved towards the corner of the room that held a conveyor belt like object. It had cloth wrapped around large wooden rollers suspended on metal bars to ensure free rotation. AS she neared the booth, she was greet by two instructors who instructed her to hop onto the contraption and begin to run. After running for about fifteen minutes and not sweating, they asked her step down and congratulated her on passing.  
By now, Isabelle was feeling pretty confident in herself. She had five traits and was breezing through her tests. She was also allowed to skip the endurance but she had the inkling that it was more geared towards those who had barely made it through training. She hadn’t been top of her class but she was a far cry from being the worst. Checking her clipboard, she couldn’t stop a chill from running down her spine. The last test she needed to pass was the pain threshold test.  
In this test, they would inflict pain onto her body to determine how much she could handle before she passed out. This was the reason she hadn’t been top of her class. She could handle most cuts, bumps, and bruises but something extreme always got to her. She didn’t really like the sight of her own blood and the thought frightened her. She could feel the terror gripping her heart once more but refused to allow herself any notions of failing the test. She had made it this far, hadn’t she? She could do this. Strong resolve filled her now as she walked up to the last booth she needed. There was a large leather chair with hand, neck, and feet restraints on it. She gulped but continued her examination. A silver metal tray stood on a matching thin silver base with a variety of sharp tools and objects lay in a neat row.  
Visibly shaking, she went and sat down in the chair. She looked up as an instructor came and stood before the silver tray of tools. He stroked the tools almost lovingly before turning to face her. He eyed her, his cold blue eyes at odds with his soft blonde hair.  
“In this test, I will inflict pain on you to determine your capacity to handle the stress on your body. When you pass out, the test is over. It is in your best interest to stay awake as long as you can. If you feel you cannot handle it, you may stop the test at any time but this will result in automatic failure. There are three different rankings for this test. Pass, Fail, and Needs Improvement. If you fall under Needs Improvement or Fail, you will not be allowed to proceed as a prophet but you may attempt to retake this core test next year. If you fall into the fail category again, you will not be allowed to retake it. If you are in the Needs Improvement category, you will be allowed a third attempt at the test before no more attempts can be made. Do you understand?” He stared down the length of his nose at her. He was human but he seemed to be more predatory to Isabelle than anyone else she could remember meeting. When Isabelle nodded her consent, He turned back to the tray of instruments. She could see him lightly running his finger tips over the instruments, almost caressing them. He finally settled on a finely sharpened tool that resembled a scythe and turned to face her and smiled, cold hunger and anticipation in his eyes. “Good.”  
He ran his finger along her forearm gently before smiling maliciously at Isabelle and slowly dragging the scythe down the length of her arm. Isabelle screamed and blood welled and dribbled down her arm from the cut he had made. He smiled, enjoying himself, before he delivered another cut down the length of her arm. Tears sprang into Isabelle’s eyes as she fought to hold onto consciousness. She could see blood dripping in steady trickles onto the floor. Her blood. She screamed again as he made another meticulous incision deep into the soft flesh of her other arm. She looked up at him. His eyes were alight with joy and his face looked hungry for more. Isabelle was terrified of him. She tried to avoid looking at her bleeding, sliced up arms and failed. When she saw all the blood dripping from her arms accompanied by his delighted face she couldn’t handle it anymore. She let out a soft squeak and allowed herself to slip out of consciousness, no thoughts given to whether or not she would pass or fail.

When she finally came to, her arms had fully healed and several grim looking adults stood around her where she lay in a small bed. The sheets were white and smelled of fresh linen and the mattress felt like it was stuffed with goose feathers. The room she was in seemed to still be underground as the walls, ceiling, and floor were made of stone.  
As she looked from dismal face to dismal face, tears formed in her eyes and fear seized her chest. Isabelle wondered why they all had such downcast faces on but she realized she already knew. Grief crept into her voice as she asked, wavering, “I didn’t pass, did I?”  
Isabelle lowered her gaze to her hands and the tears fell in rivulets down her cheeks. She gripped the sheet tightly in her hands and squeezed until her knuckles became white. Her tail snaked around her stomach and she tried to contain the torrent of tears that she knew would come soon.  
Hildebrand Sheay walked into the room and picked up a clipboard Isabelle had not seen when she had first looked at the room. He looked at the information and his grip on the clipboard tightened. His jaw clenched causing the vein on his temple to protrude slightly more than usual. He whispered to a tall blonde woman near the door but thanks to her enhanced hearing, she was able to hear the conversation clearly, “Have you checked these results? Are we sure she doesn’t meet the requirement?”  
“Yes sir, I ran the numbers myself three times to be sure. She doesn’t meet the core requirements.”  
Hildebrand straightened and drew up to his full 6’2 height before going to Isabelle’s side. He looked down at her with fondness and grief warring across his face. His eyebrows knitted together as he struggled to word his next sentence. “Isabelle, there’s always next year. You scored in the Needs Improvement category.”  
Fresh tears stung the corners of her eyes as Isabelle's face twisted into an expression of pure agony. She wrapped her arms around her chest tightly in an effort to stop her heart from shattering. She was aware of Hildebrand speaking but she couldn’t hear him. His words fell on deaf ears and she rocked back forth.  
Hildebrand put a hand on her shoulder. Isabelle looked at it with a blank expression before turning her face up to meet his eyes. His face was blurred unrecognizable. No, those were the tears in Isabelle’s eyes. Icy awareness ran through her and she focused on what he was saying.  
“… you should take this year ad time off.” Hildebrand was trying to soothe her, she realized. “Think of it like a kind of vacation.”  
Isabelle nodded, her expression guarded and unreadable, before she got out of bed and just audible said, “Thank you all. I’d like to go now.”  
All eyes turned to regard her. Isabelle’s skin crawled and she couldn’t think of nothing more than to get out of this suffocating room. When she reached the door, she knew if she stepped out, there would be no holding herself together anymore. Inhaling deeply, she lowered her arms from their death grip on her chest and resolved set in. She pushed open the door and winced as she felt the last pieces of her heart splintering to dust.


	3. Sanford

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up with Sanford several hours after Isabelle has left.

Chapter 3 Sanford had returned to the cash register shortly after Isabelle had left though several hours had now passed. His 6’2 form leaned against the counter in almost the same position he had been in before she had come in. He smiled a smile that touched his sharp brown eyes as he remembered how she had looked ready to kill him. He wasn’t sure why but he always felt like he had to tease the mouse therian until she looked like she was going to murder him. He couldn’t help it. They had been family friends since childhood and he couldn’t resist ruffling her again. It had been so fun when they were younger but back then she would have hit him before crying. He exhaled loudly before turning his focus on the mass of girls before the counter. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone. He wasn’t interested in the women in the town he lived. He had learned that laying with the wrong woman could have some serious repercussions if her husband found out. No, he wouldn’t do that in this town so he continued to spurn all attempts by the women. He knew Isabelle fancied women but it still pleased him when he could make her blush. Aeons, something was wrong with him! Pestering a girl he knew wasn’t interested and for no good reason. He groaned in frustration with himself before ringing up the small candies the girl in front of him had brought. He knew she probably wouldn’t even eat the candies and was surprised when he felt bitter for the waste. He dismissed her kindly by thanking her for her business and moving his hand in a small sweeping motion. A few more women repeated this process and after the sixth brought only small pieces of candy, Sanford decided it was time for a break. He smiled and apologized to the customer at the counter before setting his back in ten minutes sign in front of the register. The women audibly groaned in frustration at missing him but began milling about the isles instead of clustering his register. Sanford exited the raised platform of the register and sighed in relief. He was used to being the recipient of female attention and normally loved it but since his resolve not to sleep with anyone in his town, the attention of these particular women was more annoying than anything else. He glanced around and saw that most of the women were browsing the isles and actually shopping, though some of them were still eyeing him like he was a slice of beef. He shivered and moved towards the back room. He was almost there when a tall brunette stepped into his path. Her skin was coppery brown and her brown eyes were filled with lust as she looked him up and down. “Trying to run, little snack?” She purred as her hips swayed her hour glass form. She was a buxom woman and Sanford couldn’t help noticing it. This was the type of woman he normally went for and he couldn’t ignore the sudden stirring in his loins. She swayed over to him and wrapped herself around his body. “I don’t think so.” Sanford stared straight ahead, trying not to look at the woman. Even if he couldn’t see her, he was acutely aware of the soft press of her breasts on his chest and the warmth of her breath on his neck. He stood stiffly and mentally willed himself to stop reacting. He chanted his resolve like a mantra in his head. When he finally felt he had a firm enough control of himself, he stepped back away from her and smiled apologetically. “My apologies, mistress, but I have urgent business I must attend to in the back room.” Before she could answer, he strode passed her. He stole a glance at her face and got the impression she wasn’t used to being told no by the sharp look of consternation written there. He hastened into the back room where they kept all the excess stock. It seemed to be the only true place he was out of the female scrutiny so he didn’t mind organizing the shelves. It also gave him a good chance to look at all the goods from the other nations. His favorite thing while organizing was to test all of the candy. It helped build rapport with the customers if you knew what the product actually tasted like when they asked and it also improved sales. The store dealt mostly in groceries and candies but occasionally, Sanford would be able to put out new dresses and suits that were a big hit in the capital of Nethedomaan. He hoped that his father would let him include clothing from the other nations too but so far all his proposed ideas had been shut down. Sanford sighed and closed his eyes. He was only trying to further the business after all. He shook his head and reopened his eyes. He lifted a few small red cardboard boxes with a picture of a cherry on them and placed them next to a large wicker container the scent of dried apricots was escaping from. He lifted another wicker basket filled with grain and sat it on the other side of the dried apricots. He strived to keep the back room organized with the perishable items on one side and the non perishable on the other. After he had finished organizing everything from the jar sealed individual beverages to the barrels full of mulled wine and brandy, he noticed the store had received a shipment. Cursing under his breath, he retrieved the wooden case and forced it open with a four foot steel pry bar. Removing the lid, he peered into the container. There were several unopened boxes of a semi popular candy called Dium. Sanford arranged them on the shelves neatly before opening a box to examine a piece. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the candy was concentrated tea leaves. Curious, he opened the candy and rolled the thumb sized dark green ball around. A quick sniff of it told him they had used a combination of black and green tea leaves for the candy. Sanford wasn’t sure if he would like it but he popped the orb into his mouth anyways. He moved it around with his tongue and pressed it to the inside of his cheek before the flavor truly hit him. He spat it out immediately and his face contorted to match the terrible bitter taste. “Ugh! That’s awful!!” He exclaimed in disgust to himself. “Who in bloody Aeons would eat these?!” He threw both the candy and the wrapper into the trash without another glance. Sanford wouldn’t ever eat another but he had to put it on the shelf anyways. He winced at memory of the bitterness but grabbed a case anyways to place on the shelves. When he emerged from the back room, the crowd of women had thinned considerably but there were still a few browsing the aisles. The woman who had stopped him wasn’t around so Sanford felt safe enough to venture out and place the stock on the shelves. A few women turned their eyes to him but none approached him. Aeons, his luck would be running out soon, he was sure. He would end up angering one of these ladies and his father would have to move again. He closed his eyes and sighed before placing the boxes on the shelf next to a particularly sweet strawberry candy. “Hey!” A feminine voice came from behind Sanford and to his left. “What’s that?” Sanford turned around to see a girl who looked about in her early teens with light brown hair and big brown eyes. She was eyeing the new candy, Dium. He shuddered before answering truthfully, “It’s a popular candy in the capitol and we thought we would offer it out here. I personally don’t like it. It is way too bitter for my tastes but if you like your tea you might like it. It is concentrated black and green tea leaves.” “Wow, thanks mister!” She grabbed a few pieces and bounded away to a woman who was unmistakably her mother. Sanford smiled at her retreating form before finishing up with the candy. He wasn’t sure how well the candy would sell but at least he was able to tell his customers the truth about it. Slowly, he made his way back to the cash register. Stepping onto the platform, he walked the five paces to the register and leaned against the counter, his head supported in his left hand. His dark brown hair fell into his sharp brown eyes and he clenched his square jaw in anticipation. It had been a busy shift today, normally he would find time to himself in between waves but the only time he had managed was his trip to the back room. Fortunately, he was able to close up shop once the sun had passed the noon day zenith and he began to ponder what he would do with the rest of his daylight. Maybe he would go to the next town over and look for some fun. He grinned to himself at the idea and he picked up his pace to speed up closing. As he was resupplying the shelves, he heard the slight swooshing noise of the door opening. Irritated, he tossed a dried cocoa bean and honey bar onto the shelf, he called out, “We’re closed, come back tomorrow please!” Not hearing the door open again, he roughly sat the box down and moved towards the front door. After he had cleared the aisles, he could hear the soft sobbing noises coming from a slightly convulsing shape near the register. The sobs grew louder as he approached the shape from behind. “Your pardon, but-” The words froze on Sanford’s lips as Isabelle turned around, her eyes red and puffy from the tears streaking down her cheeks. She rushed at him and he only had a few moments breaths before he had wrapped her in his embrace, comforting the small mouse therian. His chin rested on the crown of her head, nestling between her large white mouse ears. Her body shook uncontrollably beneath his arms and he could hear her trying to catch her breath. Gently, he asked, “What’s wrong, Isabelle?” He pushed her away slightly so that he could look into her salt stained light blue eyes. He wiped away a tear that rolled down her cheek and moved a loose tuft of hair from her face. She had glistening tracks tracing her cheeks and a small glob of snot was trying to escape from her delicate nose. Laughter threatened to leave Sanford’s chest but he quickly squashed it. “You know you can tell me anything.” Visibly struggling to stop her sobs, Isabelle inhaled deeply several times before collecting herself and answering, “I can’t work on the cogs.” Tears began to well in her eyes and once more they fell in tiny rivulets down her soft angular cheek bones. Sanford was shocked. He knew she had trained her whole life for this moment and he couldn’t fathom the fact that she could fail. The idea was inconceivable. Isabelle was one of the most committed and determined people he knew. His confusion must have shown on his face because Isabelle explained a bit further. “I didn’t p- pass the pain tolerance t- test! I can take it ag- again next year but I only have once more ch- chance!” She stuttered and half of her words came out in choked raises of the voice. Sanford knew she was fighting back more tears and he pulled her close once more. “Oh come here,” He crooned, resting his chin on her crown once more. He thought things over and asked, “ By how much did you fail? Did they say?” “I ranked as N- Needs Improvement. We don’t get actual scores. Why?” “What if I go talk to them? Maybe I can reason with them and get you a job somewhere not directly in the tunnels.” He pushed her away so he could see her face. “Do you think it could work?” Isabelle took in his words and appeared to be thinking it over before she slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t think that would work. There’s never been any documented case where a failed applicant was able to work on the cogs.” “I am still going to give it a shot. If it doesn’t work, we can run away together. We can travel the world for the year and build up your pain tolerance on the way.” He watched her face closely as he said this. She looked at him as if she had never seen him before. “Are you mad or have you just decided you are a bloody Aeon and can do as you please?” She continued to look at him incredulously, not even realizing she had just insulted him. Sanford was amused and offended at the same time since the girl didn’t use harsh language often. “My my, your language certainly has changed. And no, I am not mad. If the Elders don’t listen, there’s no reason for us to stay here. What ties will we have to hold us here? You cant say that you’re going to be happy to stay in a town where everyone knows you failed your test, can you? Honestly, sometimes I think I’ll understand rocks better than I understand women.” Pink flooded into Isabelle’s cheeks and Sanford knew he was going to get an earful. Before she could gather what she was going to say, he placed a finger on her lips and smiled. “You didn’t say no.” Isabelle swatted his hand away before hotly saying, “I didn’t agree to your rock brained plan either. Leaving isn’t a smart idea. There are all kinds of things going on in the world we don’t have any knowledge on. It isn’t safe!” “I don’t care if it’s safe or not. Think of all the things we could do and see. Isabelle, come on. This is a once in a life time chance we have here. You wont ever be able to do this again.” He clenched his jaw sternly, “I’m going. I hope you go with me if they don’t let you on the Paniskism. Now take me to the Elders so I can reason with them.” Isabelle glared at him. Sanford was glad he couldn’t read her thoughts because he was sure she was skinning him alive with her words. All the anger drained out of her face but Sanford heard her mutter something about bloody Aeons and how she’d have better luck being friends with a mule. She glared daggers at him once more but he was relieved when she abruptly turned on her heels and stormed out of the store. Sanford felt he would never understand women. Aeons, he could bed them, sure, but that didn’t mean he understood them. He inwardly sighed. At least it was a bit easier with Isabelle. She didn’t find him attractive and it was easy to talk to her since she wasn’t constantly fawning over him. The fact that they had grown up together added into it but he hadn’t seen her for a few years. She was taller than he remembered, though she was still a deal shorter than he was. Her hair had grown out and she had lost the softness that childhood had given her. She seemed more a woman than the girl he remembered. This thought startled him back to the present. He hadn’t noticed he had left the store to follow her but he saw that she stood with her weight on one hip and her arms folded beneath her breasts. “Well? Come on if we are going to do this.” Her voice was still heated. Perhaps he should have approached the subject when she had had time to let her feelings settle. In a barely audible voice, she muttered, “We’d probably be better off if we didn’t. I’d rather walk in Blood Forest naked than do this.” Sanford smiled to himself but didn’t comment. He knew she wouldn’t appreciate anything he had to say on the matter and he couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t lascivious. The more he thought about what she had said, though, the more curious he became. “Why do you think we would be better off if we didn’t go?” Startled, she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. Her light blue eyes gave him an appraising look before she chewed her bottom lip and returned to facing forward as they walked. Sanford would need to have been blind not to notice the slight grimace of her form before she straightened her back and she responded. “The Elders are very set in their ways. You know how old people get. They won’t want to bend the rules for me or for anyone. If we go, they will know I’m not happy with the outcome of the test and they might give me some sort of punishment. Aeons, I don’t know, Sanford. I just don’t like the idea. And we shouldn’t just run away either. What about our parents? How will they handle it?” Isabelle grew more exasperated with each breath. “The war is going on to the north. What if we run into an army or something happens to us? I know I have training but that doesn’t mean we can’t be caught off guard.” “You're thinking too much about the ifs. We will go and it will be fine. Our parents will be fine. You will be fine. I will be fine. Everything will be fine, okay? Relax. We can do this. If it would make you more comfortable, we can invite someone to tag along with us. Safety in numbers, right?” Isabelle chewed her lip thoughtfully before nodding. “I suppose you’re right but if you say one more thing will be fine I’ll box your ears, Sanford Hawksley!” Sanford’s face lit in a triumphant smile and he felt very pleased. He hadn’t expected her to give in so easily. The woman could be infuriating and stubborn more often than she could be compliant. They walked in silent contemplation for a while. Sanford knew he would need to gather some supplies and he was sure his father would allow him to take some but he wanted to make a list of essentials and things he just wanted. Isabelle halted in front of him, pulling him from his reverie and back to the now. She had stopped in front of small grey building. There were no windows in the one story walls and it looked somewhat bleak to Sanford. Isabelle opened the front door to reveal a dimly lit room with a low ceiling and grey stone floors. A dark oak door silhouetted the opposite wall in a large rectangular shadow that was only a shade darker than the rest of the gloom. Isabelle glided over with no indication of the darkness bothering her and Sanford shivered. He wasn’t sure how the prophets were able to walk into this darkness everyday and not be changed when they came back out. Well, if Isabelle could do it so could he. He stepped into the darkness and stood for a few moments before his eyes adjusted. He stood at the top of a narrow staircase the disappeared into more darkness. “Darkness. Darkness everywhere.” Sanford muttered as he began his descent. He knew Isabelle had heard him but was grateful she had not said anything. The torches along the way were barely enough to allow his eyes to make out each step. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been descending when Isabelle broke the silence. “You get used to it, you know? The darkness. After living your whole life down here, you hardly notice the absence of the sun anymore.” Isabelle continued down the stairs but spoke softly. “We aren’t any different than those who live on the surface. We just are needed down here is all.” “I know that.” Sanford hated the suspicion that had tinged his voice. What did he have to be suspicious of? Light, he had known her his whole life. More confidently, he said, “I understand getting used to it. Will you miss it?” Isabelle seemed startled by his question and remained silent for a few moments. “I’m not sure. I have always wanted to see the sun in more than just passing glimpses but this is what I have known my whole life. How am I supposed to adjust to life without it over night?” “Maybe you won’t have to. How long before we reach the bottom?” As Sanford asked the question, the stairs began to level out into a square room. He was kind of surprised to see murals on the walls. He wondered if they really thought they helped blot out some of the darkness but quickly shook the thought away. He needed to remain positive if this was going to work. Two large wooden tables with mismatch chairs stood in the center on a large worn brown rug that covered nearly the entire floor. Inhaling, the room smelled of smoke and rotted wood. Two guards stood on the opposite side of the room, near a large metal door frame that stood open. As he approached, the one on the left turned his gaze upon Sanford. He was so average looking, Sanford thought he might forget the guy before he even left the man's presence. Feeling slightly embarrassed at the thought he stepped aside to let Isabelle greet the man. When she rushed over to hug him tightly, Sanford’s eyebrows rose into a questioning position. Isabelle finally released the man and turned to peer at Sanford. Seeing his gaze, she answered the unspoken question floating around Sanford’s mind. “He was with me when we left the other city. I’ve known him practically my whole life.” She smiled up at him. “He was my first friend here. I don’t remember too much about the other city but I remember that he was there.” Sanford was surprised at this explanation but kept his face schooled. He didn’t think he’d remember this guy even if they spent a year together. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sanford.” The man took his proffered hand and shook it before grinning and saying, “So this is the infamous Sanford, teaser of all things innocent and mouse like.” “I did not say that!” Isabelle exclaimed, pink ringing her cheeks. Sanford thought it might be embarrassment but what did he know? “We are going to speak to Hildebrand. Do you know if he is in his office?” “He is, but he has some visitors. Would you like to wait out here?” Isabelle eyed Sanford and the guard and sniffed. “I think not. All I need is for you two to discover some sort of kinship in teasing me. We will go and wait outside his office. Thank you very much.” Sanford and the guard shared a laugh before he stepped aside to allow passage into the Paniskism. Isabelle hugged him one last time before leading the way into the tunnels. Sanford was pleased to see the tunnels were much more well lit than the stairs had been. As much as he would hate to admit it, darkness made him uncomfortable. He stepped into the tunnel and gasped. He had never seen the Paniskism. Few humans had been allowed in the tunnels before. All along the walls and ceiling there were systems upon systems of cogs and gears. Sanford followed the turning of one cog until he had counted to 36 additional cogs that connected in some way to the original cog he’d looked at. He wondered how the prophets knew which needed to be fixed and which were fine. A few moments later, he became aware of Isabelle staring at him. “Amazing, isn’t it?” She asked quietly, she too had been examining the system. Her voice sounded almost wistful to Sanford and he thought he had some idea of the pain she must be in now. “It’s breathtaking. I never knew it looked like this. How do they all function next to each other?” “It just does. It doesn’t matter which way a cog is facing or if it is next to one spinning the opposite way. We think it is the Aeon Ushin touching the world still.” She looked at him and blushed. “Well, the more fervent believers do anyway. Ready to go?” Sanford nodded, words escaping him as he inspected the cogs while following Isabelle. He inspected the cogs and gears so intently he walked into the back of Isabelle. When had she stopped? He certainly had not seen her stop. He opened his mouth to say something sharp but closed it at the look she gave him. Voices. He could hear voices on the other side of a thin wooden door. Isabelle had turned pale and he moved around her to listen to what was going on. The voices sounded strained if a bit heated. “There have been several murders across the nation. They’re all leading in this direction. We don’t know who is doing it. That’s we have come to warn you!” “I understand that you have gone out of your way to warn us, Lord Black, however, all of my prophets are exceptionally adequate at combat. It is unlikely any of them will be killed.” “Just because they have been trained to fight these underground monsters doesn’t mean they will be effective against all attackers, Hildebrand! You need additional preparation! Allow my associates to administer just one class. You will see their skills improve drastically.” Lord Black replied, impatience growing in his voice. “This killer is targeting prophets only. You need to take action.” “Again, we appreciate your concern, however, we cannot justify the prophets stepping away from their tasks to take a class on the off chance someone comes here. Do you have any proof the killer is coming here? Do you have anything on him or her at all? Do you even know the gender?” Hildebrand’s voice seemed tight to Sanford’s ears. “No, I won’t ask them to participate in your session.” Lord Black had started to respond but he must have moved away from the door because Sanford could no longer hear him clearly. He leaned in closer to the door and strained his ears but heard nothing. He started to move away but lost his balance and fell into the door. Inwardly cursing himself, he heard shuffling noises on the other side followed by hushed voices. He looked back at Isabelle and smiled apologetically. She was still pale but she had been glaring at his back. Soft footsteps began moving towards the door and Sanford stepped back to make it appear as though he hadn’t been listening in. He wasn’t sure how effective it would be but he had to at least make the attempt. The door slowly cracked ajar before it was pulled fully open and someone stood silhouetted by a small orange fire light in the background. Isabelle stepped closer. Sanford was relieved to see that she had regained her color but she now possessed an odd anxious look in her eyes. “Izzy. We are here to see Hildebrand, can we come in?” The man she was talking to, a man by all standards of the prophets, was Izzy Sheay. He was Hildebrand’s son, Sanford knew, but seeing the resemblance really struck him. Izzy had the same black hair with the same facial structure. He wasn’t muscular but his form was lean and cut. His facial features were softer than his father but Sanford was sure he would lose that as he aged. To be frank, Sanford thought he was a spitting image of his father even down to their matching pale cream skin. The only true difference was their eye color. Hildebrand’s chocolate brown eyes contrasted greatly with the sharp clear grey of Izzy's. “One moment, I will verify.” Izzy disappeared into the room and a murmur could be heard before he reappeared before. “You can go ahead and enter.” Isabelle walked past him and entered the room without another blink. Sanford was slightly baffled by the action but soon followed. Inside the room, a desk stood spotlighted in the center of the room at which Hildebrand was seated. There were several smaller chairs in front of the desk where two men sat. Sanford figured they were the guests. The one in the left chair was rather average looking with brown hair, brown eyes, and a neatly pressed brown suit made from silk and wool. The one in the right chair held Sanford’s interest though. He had canary yellow hair, and striking emerald eyes. He was the same height as Izzy, 6’1, but sitting down he came up to Sanford’s midriff. He wore a black silk suit and sat back in the chair like he was completely at ease. Considering what he had overheard, Sanford wasn’t sure how he could look so relaxed. Pulling his focus from the strange man, he shifted his gaze to continue his inspection of the room. Another worn rug lay on the ground and there was a well used cot in the corner. Sanford thought Hildebrand must sleep on it when he couldn’t make it up to his house. After his precursory glance around the room, he noticed that it was much smaller than he originally had perceived. It was rather cramped with all of them in it. His mind drifted and without realizing it, he was staring at the yellow haired man again. A bit startled, he took a step back and bumped against Izzy. His face held patience but his eyes were grey ice. Sanford wasn’t sure what had irritated him but erring on the side of caution, he decided to step closer to Isabelle. Hildebrand’s gaze pinned the yellow haired man. If stares could be equated to weapons, he thought that stare might be throwing daggers at the man seated across from him. Noticing Sanford and Isabelle for the first time, he broke his stare and smiled fondly at Isabelle. “Welcome.” His smiled thinned and his eyes hardened. “Lord Everard Black and his associate were just leaving.” Lord Black raked his gaze over Hildebrand, causing the other man to bristle, before sighing and standing with a straight backed, commanding presence. “As you say, Hildebrand. I have more to discuss with you but I see it would be best approached after you’ve had some time to…” He paused and evaluated Hildebrand once more. “cool off.” As he stood up to leave, he brushed past Isabelle, who’s face contorted with some expression Sanford couldn't recognize. Soon, Lord Black and his companion were exiting the room. Before he completely left the room, however, Lord Black cast an eye full of emerald fire back and smiled before saying, “Being underground doesn’t mean you’re exempt from the surface monsters. It just means you have twice as many to worry about. Think about my offer. We will return to hear your final answer.” Hildebrand gritted his teeth and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. Several moments passed by and he made no movements other than the slow circling of his fingers on his temple. Sanford wasn’t sure he wanted to disturb the moment but he cleared his throat nonetheless. He shifted nervously as Hildebrand’s gaze alighted on him. He averted his gaze and scratched his right arm, trying to satisfy an itch that wasn’t there. “I apologize for that… Show…” Hildebrand straightened his back and a stern look made his strong features appear sharp. “There are some unfortunate occurrences going on in the country and it looks like whomever is causing the problems is headed this way. But, that is none of your concern. What can I assist with today?” Isabelle, who had remained motionless during the entire exchange, trembled slightly and locks of blond curls obscured her eyes. Sanford though he heard slight sniffling noises but he couldn’t be sure. Sanford pulled his gaze from Isabelle and brought it to meet Hildebrand’s. “Sir, I would like you to reconsider Isabelle’s test results. She has trained her whole life for this. I don’t know what rules there are down here but I'm sure there is at least something she can do. Anything.” Hildebrand listened patiently as Sanford argued to allow Isabelle a chance to work on the cogs. He listened patiently as Sanford explained how when someone dedicated their life to something, they should be allowed to pursue that something. He sat with elbows on the table, fingers forming a triangle and head resting on his thumbs. When Sanford had finally quieted, the sun had moved one sect in the sky. Hildebrand unclasped his hands and stood up. “It isn’t possible. She didn’t meet the core requirements needed to work on the Paniskism. She will not be able to work down here this coming year and as she has completed her training, she will not be allowed past the restrictions normal visitors have.” “But sir, I heard she is one of the few who can see whatever levels of deterioration there are. Cant she just work in one room and look at whatever can be brought to her?” “No. She can’t. She will need to find something on the surface until she can test again.” He walked around the table and leaned against it, “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear but-“ “Cant you talk to the Elders?” Sanford interrupted. “Don’t you think I haven’t already tried?” Hildebrand fired back angrily. He exhaled loudly before regaining his composure. “I already tried to speak to the Elders. They wouldn’t have it. You must have the core requirements to be down here or you wont survive.” He spoke to Isabelle now, “You know I tried everything to get you a pass, right?” Isabelle just stood there. Sanford wasn’t sure why she didn’t move but as he moved towards her, he understood. She quivered with restrained sobs that had only just been audible while they were silent. There was no way he could have heard them while peaking. Hildebrand’s voice held pain as he walked over to her and lifted her chin to expose the tears and hurt. “Please don’t cry. Working on the surface isn’t all that bad. You can see the sun and see what it is like to live outside of the Paniskism.” “I don’t want to work on the surface!” Isabelle replied with acidic tone. She glared at him, her broken heart evident in her eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to this day for as long as I can remember. I’ve been trained as an Enforcer, like Izzy. I know exactly what awaits me on the surface. The hate and redundancy of it doesn’t interest me! I just want to work on the Paniskism and you wont let me!” “It isn’t because I wont let you, Isabelle.” Steel and desperation entered Hildebrand’s voice as he continued. “I told you I tried what I could to get you in. I tried.” Isabelle looked on the verge of tears again. Sanford didn’t understand the underlying currents going on but he knew he didn’t want her crying again. He stepped towards her and wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her towards him and said in a quiet voice, “Bells, it isn’t his fault. He can only follow what the Elders order him to. He is bound by his vows to uphold the law." He was shocked by the angry glare she met his words with before her expression softened. “I am sure he did everything he could have. I don’t think anything is going to change the Elders’ minds. It is time for the second part of our deal. We should go. We need to plan.” Bells stared at him blankly. Sanford worried she wouldn’t agree with him and was relieved when she slowly nodded. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Hildebrand. I know we interrupted an important meeting and I apologize.” Isabelle curtsied before leaving the room. Sanford sighed and turned to shake Hildebrand’s hand. His penetrating stare made Sanford uncomfortable and he had to resist the urge to squirm. He hated that he had wanted to squirm and considered trying to intimidate the Enforcer but decided that it would likely not be a good idea. He released the grip on Hildebrand’s hand and exited the room. Isabelle stood with her back to him and he briefly wondered why he had felt the need to come down here to begin with. When she turned around and saw her puffy red face and tear filled eyes, he remembered. He was saddened by her down struck face and wanted to find some way, any way to comfort the girl. “Sanford, I just want to take one last walk around before I’m unable to come down here again. Is.. Is that okay?” Sanford couldn’t bear to disappoint her any further than her mentor had so he just nodded his head. “You lead. I don’t know any of the pathways down here.” She stepped towards him, stood on her tip toes, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I appreciate you trying to help. I really do.” She looked around and set off down the corridor, illuminated by torchlight and the faint glow of the Paniskism. The working cogs still fascinated him and he became lost in his observations and stopped keeping track of their turns. When Isabelle stopped walking, he hardly noticed. He kept walking until he walked into her back. “Ow! Watch where you’re going, rock brain!” She exclaimed and rubbed her lower back. “I’m sorry, I was just paying attention to the cogs again.” He smiled apologetically. “Why did you stop?” Ignoring his question, she turned to face him. “What are your plans for us leaving?” When he didn’t answer, she added, “You do have one, right?” “I’m working on it.” Sanford said in a defensive tone. “I know we are going to be traveling the nations so we can see the world but I’m not sure about where we will be going or how we are going to get there. I a sure we can buy some horses or maybe cart. They can’t be too expensive. Or we can just foot it. It wouldn’t be too much of change for us now, we just might not make the trip in time for you to get back for testing. Are the tests held on a specific date or is there some sort of system for choosing the date?” Isabelle chewed her lip, a thoughtful expression on her face. When she didn’t say anything for several minutes, he persisted. “Well?’ She looked up at him, her light blue eyes meeting his brown ones. “I think they will let me take it at anytime after the one year mark, so if we don’t make it back in exactly one year, it should be fine. I can train some more and learn to develop my current traits so that when I come back, I can pass for certain.” Determination filled her movements and Sanford felt some of the tension he had release. He hadn’t been fully certain that she would agree to go. He wouldn’t go on his own and she had been the only person he could have asked who wouldn’t read into it too much. He hated it but the fact that she hadn’t passed and there was nothing to be done about it made him slightly happy. He felt guilty about that feeling and quickly pushed it aside. Isabelle began to start walking but her movements were slow and uncoordinated. Sanford found this suspicious and asked, “Bells? What’s wrong?” “Ah, well. You see..” Sanford stared at her. “Isabelle.” She turned to look at him. Sanford only ever called her by her full name when he disapproved of something she had done. “We are kind of lost.” “You can’t be serious.” Sanford couldn’t believe her. She had wanted to take this walk. She had gotten them lost. She had done this. Anger boiled beneath his skin but he suppressed it. “Well, what do we do? How do we get out of here?” “Well, that’s the thing. We wandered past where I usually worked and I’m not sure which direction we need to go to get out of here.” Isabelle turned full circle. “We shouldn’t have to walk too far before we run across a prophet who knows the area. They will be able to get us out of here for sure.” “I guess let’s just pick a direction and go with it. If we will run into someone as you say, we should probably hurry before the next shift change or whenever that it.” Sanford was sure he didn’t know which direction was out but he picked a corridor that angled off to the left. They walked in silence most of the way, only exchanging brief words regarding a cog or question regarding the Paniskism. True to what Isabelle had said, it wasn’t too long before they came across a rabbit therian working in a clipboard. He intently examined the cogs in a particular section and wrote on the clipboard, every so often chewing on the tip of the pen he held. As they approached, his golden grey rabbit ears turned to pick up the sound of their footsteps and his head soon followed. He dropped his arms and let the clipboard rest against his leg as he swiveled his ears to listen intently. Isabelle wrapped her tail around her stomach. The whole scene seemed odd to Sanford and he wasn’t sure if he had missed something. He didn’t understand why Isabelle always wrapped her tail around her midriff when some of the other Prophets moved them while they walked. It wasn’t any of his business so he never asked but he did wonder. Pulling his thoughts back to the present. He examined the prophet they had come across. He had large rabbit ears that were the same golden grey as his hair and his grey eyes surveyed them keenly from a face that stood 5’11 from the ground. Several moments passed by and neither Bells or the rabbit said anything. He began to wonder if he should say something when the unknown male spoke up. “Hello. Are you lost?” Sanford reached up to scratch his head and looked away, slightly embarrassed he had guessed their issue immediately. Isabelle smiled at him but said nothing. “My Name is Garrett Chemsford.” He tapped the pen to his lip and smiled. He seemed to be waiting for them to say something. Sanford looked at Isabelle. She looked lost in thought so he spoke. “I’m Sanford Hawksley. This is Isabelle Demison. We are kind of lost actually. We wanted to walk around a bit and look around and must have taken a wrong turn.” Ah, I see. Well I can help you get out.” He looked at Isabelle suspiciously before asking, “Why don’t you know your way around? What team do you belong to? Where are your pins?” “I uh. I don’t belong to a team.” Isabelle reached into a small pouch that Sanford had not seen and pulled her pins out of a small leather bag. Sanford wondered where she had hidden it but stopped when Garrett spoke once more. “Oh! You have the sight pin. Congratulations! You should be on the most important team with that pin. Didn’t you go to the team assigning part? No matter, you must be too new to remember this section of the paths. That’s okay but you should be more careful not to venture out without your mentor. New prophets have to stay with a more experienced one in case there’s an emergency situation.” He tucked the clipboard beneath his arm and started walking down a tunnel that was off to Sanford’s right. He smiled at Isabelle before giving Sanford a look that bordered a glare, “So. You don’t look like a prophet. What are you doing down here?” Sanford wondered why he cared but answered anyways, careful not to say too much. “I came down to argue a friend’s case. They didn’t pass the pain tolerance test but really wanted to work on the Paniskism so I came down to speak to whoever was in charge about getting them a job anyways.” “How did it go?” Garrett looked genuinely curious so again, Sanford answered. “It didn’t. He said the Elders forbad it and that they would need to try again next year.” “With good reason. There are tetrexyls, giant bugs, and other creatures and monsters down here. If you can’t take a decent amount of pain, you will pass out and be killed. It’s the best thing for that prophet that they aren’t down here. Will he be applying again next year? “Yeah, of course.” Sanford was tiptoeing in this conversation. He had to resist the urge to look at Isabelle and see how she was handling it because he knew that would be quite obvious. From what he could tell, she was content to walking in silence slightly to his left as they followed Garrett down yet another corridor. He was sure she was listening though. That’s just who she is. He might not agree with everything the Elders did but he felt it may have been the best decision for Isabelle not to work on the cogs. Disgusted with himself for thinking this again, he opened his mouth to ask a question but was cut off by Garrett. “Okay. We are nearly there. Do you see those doors at the end of the hall? The entrance landing area is through there.” Sanford nodded affirmation he saw the doors and Garrett turned to Isabelle. “You don’t talk much, but that’s okay. Enjoy these last few days of freedom before you have to come down here and never see the sun again.” “I will.” Isabelle replied softly. Garrett smiled and joked, “be sure to say hi to the sun for me. It’s been years since we last saw each other.” Isabelle laughed and nodded her head. “Can do. It was nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you in the future.” As Garrett waved and left, Isabelle looked after him and clutched her chest. Sanford thought it looked like she couldn’t breathe so he started to step closer but stopped when she through a hand up. "I’m fine, I just…” She continued to stare after Garrett and clutch her chest. “ I just feel like something very bad is going to happen soon. We better get out of here. I don’t want to be around when it does.” “Well can’t you do something to stop it?” Sanford asked, concerned. He didn’t want to get caught up in anything underground. He was afraid of what lurked in the darkness and too proud to admit it. "Does it have anything to do with that face you made earlier? What was that anyways." “I don’t think it has anything to do with that. I thought I smelled something familiar but I was wrong. I don’t really know anything about what’s going on here so I cant help with whatever is about to happen either.” She pushed through the doors and smiled at the soldier still standing guard before heading to the opposite side of the room and beginning the ascent to the surface. They ascended in silence. Sanford went over the list of things he would need to get for their trip. He was sure his father would let him take some supplies if he needed to but Sanford didn’t want to have to resort to that. He chewed the inside of cheek, lost in thought. The stairwell became progressively brighter as they neared the surface. They exited the small building that housed the stairs and Sanford happily breathed a lungful of fresh air. He closed his eyes and let the sun warm his face as a cool breeze tickled his hair. He laughed when Isabelle passed Garrett’s regards to the sun and settled contentedly into his own thoughts. Pretty soon he and Isabelle would set off to explore the world. And he was ready for it.


	4. Garrett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic content disclaimer

Chapter 4.

Garrett Chemsford III smiled. He enjoyed being helpful to other and after he had finished escorting Isabelle and her companion out he felt amazing. As their ascending forms had disappeared, he turned to head back to his station. Each prophet was assigned a section of the Paniskism to monitor and record the status of each subsystem. There were typically 4 subsystems in each corridor. He passed through the halls silently, his large rabbit ears swiveling to catch any sound and his nose twitched to pick up any scents of the unknown. He didn’t catch anything out of the ordinary so he continued on his way. There were hardly any others who were assigned in this section as it was considered a more advanced area. Tetrexyls tended to roam the halls more often so Garrett had to be physically fit at all times.  
He reached his assigned area and retrieved his clipboard. He had made a list of the most deteriorated to the least. Satisfied with the listing, he tapped his pen to his lip and began to move onto his next subsystem. As he rounded the first corner, he collided with someone. Garrett rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes.  
“What in the—” He opened his eyes and his heart race quickened. A moss green haired wolf therian sat, no, sprawled on the floor. He hastened to offer her a hand as the accidental collision to have knocked her from her feet. “I didn’t see you there. Or hear you for that matter. I apologize immensely. Please say you aren’t injured.”  
She took his hand and stood. She brushed off her uniform and shot a sour look at him. “I’m fine I guess. You should have been paying more attention. I could have killed you if I had wanted to.”  
“I suppose you are right.” Garrett chuckled. “What are you doing down here anyways. I wasn’t told there was a new prophet being transferred to this area.”  
“I am covering for a friend. That’s all you need to know. What did you say your name was? Mine is Olivia Heane. I am part of the enhanced strength group. Which team are you with?” Olivia shifted her weight on her heels and placed her right hand on her hip. “Well? I haven’t got all day.”  
Garrett was taken aback by how blunt this 5’7 woman was. He hadn’t met very many female prophets since most didn’t pass the core requirements. He didn’t know what to make of her. Her confident posture belied the on edge glint in her eyes and her scent smelled like burnt spices, a smell he had come to realize was anxiety. He couldn’t resist asking. “What’s bothering you?”  
“None of your business.” Her voice was curt and she spun on her heel to leave. “I have to go.”  
He let her go. No point in worrying about it. It wasn’t his problem. He sighed and continued back to his post. A few moments later and he had finally returned back to his designated corridor.  
He wrote the conditions of various gears down and continued to the next section that needed to be inspected. The next section was located in a room off the main hallway. It wasn’t one of the frequently used rooms but someone from the enhanced hearing team had recommended it be examined. In the center of the room, there was a circular object that Garrett hadn’t noticed before. He started at the sight of it before moving in to get a closer examination.  
Garrett inspected the small object and noticed that it was actually a piece of candy. He turned it over in his palm to reveal the name on the wrapper.  
“Dium?” He thought out loud. He didn’t know who had left it but he stuck it in his pocket and began his work on the Paniskism. He had worked in silence for nearly half an hour before he started to hear abnormal noises.  
At first it was just a soft scuffle, so light as to be easily dismissed as hearing things. Soon, however, his large rabbit ears swiveled to seek out the cause of the more noticeable skittering. It sounded as though it were getting closer but he couldn’t tell. He could smell the decaying fruit scent of his growing fear. Taking a chance, he called out, pleased with how calm his voice sounded. “Is anyone there?”  
When no one answered, he shakily turned back to what he was doing. He knew it was possible one of the underground beasts had wandered into the frequently used corridors. It had happened twice before in his 27 years and both times he had had someone with him to help. Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down the small of his back. He mentally chided himself for letting his imagination take hold and decided to focus on his work instead. Silence met his decision and he worked for an additional 30 minutes undisturbed. At the end of the 30 minutes, however, the skittering started up again.  
A shadow passed at the end of the corridor and the stench of rotted fruit was strong in his nose. He shivered once before his back stiffened. The skittering again. He was going mad with his emotions and did something he wouldn’t rationally do.  
“This isn’t funny, you know!” He screamed at the shadow. “Why don’t you just come out here?!”  
The shadow moved into Garrett’s vision once more and remained motionless. In the dim light, he couldn’t tell the features of the shadow but he could see it wasn’t a monster. This realization made him relax a little. His voice shook as he spoke, “Are you lost? I can lead you out if you’d like.”  
Silence.  
Garrett resisted the urge to run. Every muscle in his body was screaming to but he remained still. The shadow moved and eyes glinted from the darkness. He couldn’t tell what color they were, just that they watched him and it felt as though they were evaluating him. With exaggerated slowness, he set his clipboard down and turned to fully face the shadow. He straightened his back and decided to make contact once more.  
“Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do to assist?”  
The shadow moved. It took a step closer, then two more. It stalked gracefully around the pool of light before stepping in.  
Garrett’s posture relaxed measurably. A nugal. It wasn’t common for them to be wandering the corridors and this fact puzzled Garrett. “Come. I’ll lead you back to the surface.” He turned towards where he had met Olivia. He set a strong pace and didn’t turn to see if the stranger had followed. Sharp, agonizing pain blossomed in his back after three paces. He looked down at his chest and stupidly thought that the steel protruding there didn’t belong. He screamed. His last thoughts were nothing but dim lights fading in dying eyes. 

Olivia Heane turned around so quick, she nearly lost her footing. Had she just heard screaming? She couldn’t be sure but she knew she should check. Years of experience had taught her she should approach cautiously.  
She crept through the corridors making no more sound than the slight humming of the Paniskism could cover. Noises came from ahead. She hadn’t been the only one who had heard the screams. Rounding the last corner, a cacophony of activity met her eyes.  
Hildebrand Sheay stood in the center of a room. To his left, she could see the clipboard Garrett had had when she had bumped into him. Her moss green eyes stared through moss green hair at Hildebrand. His body was bone weary and she could see it. He had his hand on his temple and pain in his eyes. She didn’t understand what was wrong with him until she came into the room.  
She heard Hildebrand barking commands to remove her from the room but couldn’t understand those either. She had stepped in something wet. Confused, she looked down to her feet and lifted one booted leg to stare at the thick red fluid coating the floor. The scent of blood filled her nose and she realized it filled the room. She glanced past the movement and glimpsed the source of the smell. Shocked, she couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing. Someone had a hold of her arm and was pulling her from the room. All she could see was Garrett’s torso. He had been dismembered and spiked through the heart. The only thing she could wonder was where his limbs and head were. It didn’t take her long to see though. They had been forced into the Paniskism. Half of one arm had been completely crushed into paste. The last thing her eyes registered before the stress on her mind won out was Garrett’s head neatly sat on one of the deteriorated cogs, with a wrapper of some kind where his eye should be.


	5. Sofia

Chapter 5

"Leave me alone, Caressa! We are through!" The girl shouted loudly, storming through the crowd of confused onlookers until she reached the fountain in the city square of Magdalena. Mouth agape, the auburn haired woman stood shocked.  
"Sofia!" Caressa yelled once she regained her senses and started gracefully navigating the crowd until she found the beautiful blonde settled on the fountain staring idly into the water. "Sofia, please... I love you. Please rethink this...” Caressa knelt down, giving the girl a pleading look. She adjusted her skirts without thinking, her mind completely focused on the girl in front of her.  
Sofia's glossy hazel eyes met Caressa's pleading gaze. She smiled softly, before back handing her. The impact of her hand to the girl's cheek was enough to cause many to stop and stare. She got off the fountain, rising to her feet and staring coldly down at the stunned older woman. "Maybe next time you’ll remember you’re in a relationship and won’t let your tongue wander down another girl's throat! This conversation is over." With that, she turned on her heels and disappeared into the crowed smiling ear to ear.  
She took her time getting home, taking in the beauty that the capital offered. The streets beneath her were made if elegant cobblestone in a plethora of colors. Every corner she passed as she walked had beautifully ordained lamps with top of the line bulbs fixed into them instead of the old kerosene wicks that were the norm everywhere else.  
However the greatest sight of all was the out-dated wishing pool fixed to the corner closest her home. It was old, ancient even, made of granite that desperately needed repairs but no one dared to touch it. Even in such a busy place as this, people believed it to be bad luck to remove or even attempt to touch the wishes of others. It was said that anyone who stole from the wishing pool was cursed with a life of misfortune, which caused an issue with repairs.  
Sofia stopped for a moment and rifled through her small indigo purse, removing a shiny silver coin. She brought the coin to her lips, murmuring her wish against its smooth surface.  
A slight smile tugged at her lips and she spoke more audibly, willing the well to heed her wishes. “I have two wishes but only one coin. I’ll let you decide which wish to fulfill though. My first wish is to see my father’s reputation ruined. He cares more about it than he ever did for me. I never understood why he has acted the way he has but it doesn’t matter. He hasn’t done anything for me. My second wish might be a bit more easy, I think. I’d like to find a woman who won’t stray from my side. I know the mould was broken when I was created but someone similar to me would be amazing.”  
She chuckled to herself before placing a kiss to the coin and tossing it into the well, leaving her lipstick as her signature for the well to find her wish. She exhaled lightly and walked up the stairs to her home and unlocked the heavy glass and spruce door. Sofia entered, removing her midriff jean jacket and hanging it on the black wooden coat rack attached to the entrance wall. Her light grey blouse hung loosely around her chest and the length hugged her hips. Smoothing her skirts, she had begun to hum a light tune as she headed towards the staircase leading to the second floor but was cut off by the abrasive and forceful tone of her father's voice calling out to her.  
"SOFIA DESIRAE MARROWINE, MY OFFICE THIS INSTANT!!!!" His voice bellowed harshly through the halls, causing her to cringe and back away from the sound. She considered backing out the front door but shook her head a moment later, knowing it was an awful idea. She heaved a heavy sigh and trudged down the hall, coming to a halt in the doorway of her father's office.  
"YOUNG LADY, COME TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR ACTIONS. NOW!!!!!!" He snarled through gritted teeth as she approached his desk. She cavalierly plopped into the chair and crossed her legs, resting her chin in her palm, an indifferent expression crossing her face as he ranted. When he finally fell silent, Sofia stared at him coldly, grinned devilishly and retorted with heavy sarcasm, "I SWEAR I didn't ask the maid to pour tea in your brandy. Maybe it's time to cut back a little."  
Her father, Geoffrey Marrowine VI, started turning red in the face before exploding again, "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO MY REPUTATION??!!" He straightened a few assorted papers on his desk before calming a bit further, “I’m not sure what you were doing with that hussy but this family cannot take much more shame before we are ruined!"  
Sofia, who had kept her cold gaze, continued to look at him before replying in an extremely dry and sardonic voice, "Tell me why I should care?" She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oh right. You can't. Because it's not about our reputation, it's about your reputation. If mother were here she'd tell you EXACTLY how she feels about you and your reputation."  
"Well she's not!" He yelled, "And you'll soon enough join her at the sick house if you don't straighten up!"  
She rose to her feet, smoothing out her skirt as she spoke. "There will be no need for that; I'll be leaving of my own volition..." She then raised her eyes to meet his, the most destructive look on her face and acid in her words. “But you know what, daddy? I'm going to burn your reputation to the ground, leaving a wake of destruction that can only be compared to the damage you have done to this family." She grinned devilishly and turned to walk away, stopping briefly in the doorway to mutter before making her exit, "Go take a long walk off a short precipice, dick."  
Sofia grinned and walked out into the rear courtyard, making her way through the beautiful lilies, chrysanthemums and various other flowers planted along the pathways, she trotted up the small steps to the maids' quarters before she knocked twice. Sofia had planned for this day years in advance, since the day she caught Geoffrey beating her mother. She knew that she had to bring him to justice, so she had spent the past three and a half years collecting evidence. Everything from the forged documents that had her poor mother committed to the paintings of the bruises was contained in her evidence folder. About a year ago, her mother had gotten pneumonia and was put in the local sick house.  
After a brush with death and two months of being bedridden, instead of being able to return home, she was sent to Saint Nicholai's for evaluation. Sofie's mother wasn't crazy. Geoffrey knew that if he didn't do something, his wife would reveal the abuse and ruin his reputation. So he simply locked her away to keep her quiet. After all, who's going to believe a madwoman claiming her husband violently abused her?  
Esmeralda finally opened the door, peering around curiously before letting Sofia inside. She entered, setting down in the teal wingback chair to the left of the maid's worn outdated floral print couch. For a moment the maid disappeared down the hall, only to emerge a few seconds later with a package in one hand and Sofia's olive bag in the other.  
"I kept them hidden, just as you asked, mum." Esmeralda smiled gently at Sofia and handed the items off to her. "I packed you rations and plenty of emergency money just in case your father sends someone after you. I sent word to my sister Ella so you have a place to stay in St. Nicholai's. Good luck mum, and please keep in touch."  
Sofia took her bag and put it on, giggling as she rose to her feet. She pulled Esmeralda into a hug and closed her eyes. "You don't have to call me 'mum' anymore. Thank you for everything, I'm going to miss you." She glanced at the clock then released the maid from the hug. "I should get going while I still have sunlight. Take care, okay? You need to get out of here too."  
Sofia gave Esmeralda a sad smile, brushing her finger tips against the maid’s cheek before turning away and walking out. Instead of going back through the house and risking getting caught, Sofia quietly snuck through the courtyard to the side gate and opened it. As she wandered out of town she took in the sights and sounds, committing them to memory. "Goodbye Magdelana, hello St. Nicholai." She thought out loud as she exited Magdelana city limits. Soon she would reach St. Nicholai and the only government official she knew she could trust. Hopefully he would believe her and Geoffrey would be exposed for the sleaze he truly was.  
Sofia made her way down the road until a kind elderly woman stopped to offer her a ride. She gladly took it, her feet aching from the hours of walking she'd already done. She relaxed in the passenger's seat of the small wooden cargo wagon and closed her eyes with the intention of resting for the journey to come.


	6. Chapter 6 Hildebrand

Chapter 6

Hildebrand Sheay winced at the scene in front of him. It had been a week since the death of Garrett Chemsford III and they had just finished collecting all the evidence found in the small room off the main corridor. Unfortunately, there was much at all. The most notable being Garrett’s notebook and semi popular candy call Dium. He had personally inspected both and had discovered nothing else. Garrett’s notebook was the standard listings and statuses of the sections he was assigned and the candy was just a piece of candy.   
Whatever had happened to the young man remained a mystery. Looking around the room, Hildebrand felt a lurch in his stomach. He could handle the gore as much as the next person but it was starting to unnerve him. Deciding he would do well to get some tea, he shook his head and turned to head back to his office. The cleaning crew should be around soon to finish up the needful. He was going to go get that tea.   
As he walked, he pondered everything he knew regarding the murders happening around Nethedomaan. He knew they had started in the northern part of the country and had slowly migrated south. He hadn’t believed that it could touch his prophets underground. Especially since so many of them had been trained in advanced hand to hand combat. The idea had struck him as absurd and he regretted not taking up Lord Black’s offer of additional training but it wasn’t something he would admit to the man. He had been infuriating. Maybe it would have given his prophets a better chance or maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. He couldn’t know and he decided not to dwell on it.  
He entered his office and sat at his desk, rubbing his temples. There hadn’t been an end to absurdity since Prince Kildare started the war for more land though. It had been all he could manage not to get caught up in it. He had once had an honored position in the Rabbit’s army but when the Prince had struck against another nation, he had quickly fled to avoid the battle.   
It was his misfortune to have been in one of the first cities attacked. The soldiers had quickly located the garrison and razed it along with all other military buildings. The city had been lost, along with a sizeable amount of the Rabbit’s early forces. 6 years had passed since that day. He had lost many men and one daughter to the rabbit. Kora, his adopted daughter had disappeared into the smoke and burned buildings. He had tried to find her but couldn’t put much effort into it while escorting his party to safety. Izzy had been smaller then, so had Isabelle. Izzy, however, had never forgiven him. His eyes filled with the grief of remembrance and he stared off into nothing. It had been many years since his son had looked upon him with unconditional love and the time had made Hildebrand weary. He loved his son more than anything but he could do nothing to bridge the gap in their relationship.   
Hildebrand pulled himself from his thoughts with great effort and decided he would return to the surface for the night. Too often he stayed under ground and didn’t leave the tunnel system for weeks at a time. His thoughts drifted to Izzy once more. He pushed the sad thoughts away and decided he was going to have his son home for dinner. He stood and exited his office, double checking everything was in place from the angle of the chair facing the desk to the quill he left perfectly in line with the piece of parchment he kept on the desk.   
Once out of his office, he asked a young feline therianthrope to carry his summons to his son. As soon as the messenger had run off, he began navigating the brightly lit corridors to the exit. When he had gone no more than half the distance, his son caught up to him.   
Izzy emerged from a corridor on his left and without so much as a word fell in step with Hildebrand. Hildebrand thought he resembled his mother and it gave him a brief swell of pride before the hard gaze of his son met Hildebrand’s eyes. There was a slight coldness there and Hildebrand wasn’t sure if it was directed at himself or if he was just in a foul mood. He wasn’t sure he liked either prospect but it was too late to withdraw the summons.   
“Was there a reason for this summons?” Izzy’s voice wasn’t soft but it wasn’t exactly hard either. Whatever it was it hid his emotions well. Hildebrand shot his son a sideways glance before facing forward once more.   
“No, I just wanted to spend some time with you. I feel like we haven’t seen much of each other recently.” Hildebrand spoke in careful tones. He didn’t want to ruin the night before it had a chance to be pleasant.   
Izzy said nothing for the time it took to walk through one corridor before he spoke in a more mellow tone. “Have you come up with any leads on what happened to Garrett?”  
“Unfortunately not. The investigation team scoured the site and gave me the deduced occurrence. Have you read it? No I expect not. The scene was normal for the area and we believe the most likely scenario was that Garrett tripped over something and was caught in the Paniskism.” Hildebrand didn’t mention the what the scene had actually looked like. Izzy didn’t need that in his dreams too. Hildebrand couldn’t get it out of his.  
“What about the candy? I heard there was a piece of candy at the scene. Was it Garrett’s?”  
“We aren’t sure. If I am not mistaken, he had the sugar disease and couldn’t have too much of anything too sweet. I checked with the local shops and seven out of the nine local shops carry the candy making that useless information.” Hildebrand no longer watched the corridors to ensure he was going the correct way. Instead, he trusted his instincts to guide his path out of the immense tunnel system.  
“Who was the last to see him alive?” Izzy kept his pace easily. His clear grey eyes looked met Hildebrand’s chocolate brown ones.   
Hildebrand studied his son. He marveled at how much the young man had grown in the last years and he was beginning to look more like his mother than himself. The thought of his mother made his chest seize slightly in pain though he only hesitated just barely. “Olivia Heane. I don’t think she would kill him though. She seemed truly shaken by what she witnessed.”  
“We can’t afford to rule anyone out. What was her story? No, no matter.” Izzy stopped at the foot of the stairs. Hildebrand started slightly when he realized they were nearly out. “We need to remove her from the cogs.”  
“Is this your lawful opinion or your personal opinion?” Hildebrand eyes his son, trying to observe his reaction. His son gave nothing away, however. He knew Izzy didn’t care much for the females being in the tunnels. Whether or not it was because he believed they were a distraction was something many rumors carried.   
Izzy glared at the older man before starting up the stairs in silence. When Hildebrand caught up, he added, “I’ll take her off for a few days but that’s it. She needs a break after what she saw.”  
They emerged on the surface when the sun was reaching its zenith . Hildebrand blinked rapidly to adjust to the natural light and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the overwhelming light.   
Hildebrand guided Izzy through the dilapidated buildings and into the thriving city. He led past all the stores and houses to the little grey cottage they shared on the outskirts of town.   
He walked up the cobble stone pathway and unlocked the studded teak door. As he entered, he hung up his keys on a little hook next to a photograph of himself and Izzy when he was 7. His son had been softer then and filled with the adoration for his father his eyes now lacked.   
Izzy walked through the entry room and into the dining room. He sat down at the tiny oak dinner table in the cramped kitchen. The cabinets were blue with thinning paint around the areas that saw the most activity. He watched as Hildebrand placed a worn kettle on the two burner stove. “It isn't uncommon for the prophets to gi a but mad being underground all day. I wouldn’t rule out Olivia just because it looks like an accident and she said she didn’t do it.”  
Hildebrand could hear the squealing of happy children faintly through the kitchens wooden shuttered window. He crossed the three paces and pulled out the worn oak chair before sitting down and forming his fingers into a steeple. He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the whine of the kettle. Hildebrand started to stand but Izzy stopped him and stood.  
Izzy moved to the stove and removed the kettle. He took out two large cups and scooped the loose leaf mint leaves into each before pouring in the boiling water. He waited for them to steep for two minutes before picking them up and juggling them to the table. He sat down across from Hildebrand and pushed his father’s favorite mug to him.   
Hildebrand took a small sip and fought not to cry out when the hot liquid burned his tongue. It was a few moments before he noticed how still Izzy had become and he looked up wearily.   
Izzy’s grey eyes were cool and staring unblinking at Hildebrand. He spoke in a quiet tone but his words were clear. “Do you think it's Kora?”  
Hildebrand stiffened slightly but forced himself to relax. He knew it would always eventually come to this. The reason for the gap between him and his son always came back to Kora. He knew he had to talk about it or the night would end badly. “I don’t know, son. We haven’t heard anything about her for six years. I’ve looked I assure you.”  
Izzy clenched his fists before muttering, “Well you didn’t look hard enough.”  
Hildebrand kept a tight leash on his anger. Izzy had never forgiven him for leaving Kora behind. The girl had been his ward since she had wandered into the barracks all those years ago. He leaned forward and rubbed his temples before requesting, “Please. Not this again.”  
“And why not? You just left her.” Izzy didn’t raise his voice but the strain in it could be heard.   
“I tried to look for her. We were under attack! What more could I have done?”   
“You could have left men to look for her. Your best tracker or someone who could blend in. I don’t know, father, but you left her!” His control had begun to fade and his voice rose.  
“Why cant you just let this go, Izzy.” Hildebrand tried to keep himself restrained and only just succeeded. He managed to keep himself controlled and collected. His son had been raising the issue since the occurrence happened, six years ago, when he had only been fifteen years of age.   
“She was your ward! You were supposed to take care of her!” Izzy shouted, no longer attempting to control his anger. He stood abruptly, sending the chair careening into the wall where it crashed and made a loud scraping noise.   
“She wasn’t my daughter! I had more important thins to do! Why do you still care? Forget her!” Hildebrand couldn’t stop the angry yell that escaped his throat and he regretted it before the words had fully left.   
“I loved her! And you just left her!”  
Hildebrand’s shock was clearly visible on his face. He had never heard his son say this before. His face must have frozen that way because Izzy said in much softer tones, “I loved her, father. I still do. You know what it is like to love someone and have them be lost to you.”  
Hildebrand sat back against his chair, startled into silence. He did know. He did. The wounds had never healed from the loss of his wife. “I… I’m sorry, Izzy. I didn’t know. You were only fifteen years. How could I have known?”  
Izzy didn’t say anything further. He just pushed the chair in carefully and left. Hildebrand sat in the kitchen for another span of time before he rose and groaned at the stiffness of his joints. He pushed his chair in and walked to the front door. He grabbed his keys and stepped out into dusky sky. He knew he should go and find Izzy but he couldn’t settle himself with the revelation the argument had brought so he resolved himself to take a walk. If he found Izzy, he would ask him home. He decided to stroll through the city and headed towards the heart of the prosperous side of the community. He passed by many cottages with lights still outlining the occupants and the resident guardians barking from their sectioned yards.  
Before he had made it too much further from his own cottage, Isabelle intercepted him. She was panting, though it didn’t look like it was due to the running she appeared to have been doing. Her hair was wind tossed and her tail thrashed about in evident agitation.   
“Sir! Sir! Come quick! There’s been another murder!” She pulled at his arm feeling the urgency in her voice was not enough and forced him to take a few steps before she notice his stare directed at her hand. She immediately dropped her hand and spoke, no less urgency in her voice. “Please, just come. I think she might still be alive.”  
Isabelle darted into the growing night and Hildebrand followed, a cold sickness beginning to twist his stomach.


	7. Chapter 7 - Olivia

Oliver scanned each section with her diagnostic band, the sounds of soft grinding and whirring lulling her into rhythm. Each section had to be thoroughly scanned in order to ensure a healthy, working system was maintained. The diagnostic band was an expensive mechanical device that allowed each prophet to read the cogs and gears structurally integrity and verify whether or not it was at peak performance or needed to be taken down and repaired. It also allowed limited communication to others within 1 kilometer who possessed the diagnostic band or the incredibly more expensive communications band. The gears were no light object, most prophets had to use a cart to carry them around but not Oliver. She had the strength trait and was able to easily carry them as she pleased.  
When her scan returned normal levels of wear and tear, she decided to take a seat and rest. She leaned up against a short column that was halfway through the tunnel. It connected to an arch and assisted with supporting the massive Paniskism. She slid down the column, her short mossy green hair picking up stray dust and dirt on the way down.

She sighed, her matching moss green eyes glazed as she stared into the darkness of an adjacent hall losing herself in her thoughts. Her mind puzzled over her past suffering and the pain of present misfortunes. She hadn’t had an unbearable past few months since she had come to St. Nicholai but it certainly hadn’t been easy. Working underground left a toll on every prophet, some more so than others. Before she could further consider everything that had occurred, a shrill screech brought her abruptly back to the underground. 

She lept to her feet and nearly tumbled as she was forced to right herself after losing her balance. It took a few seconds for her brain to realize the screech had turned into a scream before it cut off into startling and abrupt silence. Confusion, concern, and fear settled within her as she ran towards the point of origin and noticed an odd scent in the air.

As she sprinted down an empty corridor, dust swirled in her wake leaving small dusty tornadoes skittering across the floor. She rounded a corner and horror froze her heart as she realized what the smell was. Burnt flesh. She slowed, the shock of the scent creating hesitation in her gait. She was nearly to the next corridor when she halted. There weren’t any other sounds other than her rapid breathing and her hammering heart. She didn’t think her heart could quicken anymore when it did. She heard footsteps coming from further up the hallway, the side opposite of the corridor. Slowly, a figure materialized into shape as it approached her. 

Oliver didn’t know whether she wanted to run, scream, or fight. Her choice was made easy when the figure coalesced into Izzy Sheay. His black hair glinted in the torch light and his grey eyes shined with something Oliver didn’t want to identify. She hesitated and glanced over her shoulder at the empty corridor behind her, still contemplating running away. 

Izzy’s timbre voice cut through the silence like a knife, his tone not much softer. “Olivia.”

“Izzy.” Olivia tried to return some of the sharpness but was unsuccessful. She did raise an eyebrow and asked, “Do you smell that? Do you know what it is?”

Izzy sniffed the air in one quick breathe and he eyes focused on Olivia’s face. “One of the workers caught a limb over a steam vent. I already took care of it, he will be fine. I must continue on my way. Is there anything I can assist you with or can I be on my way?”

“I’m fine,” Olivia stammered. She didn’t like Izzy. Something about him unsettled her. She didn’t understand why he was in this section of the Paniskism, only those with the strength trait were assigned here and Izzy is human. He couldn’t possibly handle any tetrexyls. Still he was here. She watched his back, pondering this as he disappeared around the corner. She considered continuing into the next corridor to verify his claim, however, after viewing her diagnostic band and verifying the sun’s position she turned towards the exit. Her shift was over and some other prophet’s injuries were not her problem. She walked in silence, still pondering Izzy’s presence for much longer than she would care to admit. 

As she neared the exit, a soft whine began to emit from the area around her wrist. She lifted her diagnostic band and reviewed the alerts on its dimly lit interface. Her eyes widened as she continued to note the increasingly high deterioration rate and she began to panic. Sweat made her tan skin glossy and it beaded in the small of her back. She knew she should turn around and inform every one but the exit was just so close. Could she live with leaving now and potentially let the small problem turn into a huge issue later on down the line? She might be able to. She was pretty confident she could.  
Most of the prophets were males and they didn’t accept females being in the same sections as them. It was why most of the females get partnered together or were in areas of low activity. She sighed. They hadn’t been very kind to her but she decided she couldn’t let some bloody pigheaded men sway her decision to do the right thing. She gave a longing look at stairs leading to the surface before turning around and following Izzy’s path at a brisk trot.

**Author's Note:**

> Story by Brittany K. Lehman, copyrights Brittany K. Lehman


End file.
